


Adorably awkward

by darter_blue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Date-cute, Dating, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 11:24:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21898531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue
Summary: Steven Grant Rogers may not love everything about the twenty first century. But waiting for a late Natasha at the curb of his new home in the Avengers building, Steve finds something to add to the pro column of this new crazy millennia he's found himself defrosted in; tinted windows.OrThe one where Bucky uses Steve's car window as a mirror and Steve can appreciate the view...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 338
Kudos: 1065





	1. Steve

**Author's Note:**

> Just turning this cute prompt from Tumblr into a drabble into a multi chapter fic...
> 
> See the cute Tumblr post here:  
[darter-blue.tumblr.com](https://darter-blue.tumblr.com/post/189818087088/youre-the-stranger-whos-using-my-cars-window)

Steven Grant Rogers may not love everything about the twenty first century. But waiting for a late Natasha at the curb of his new home in the Avengers building, Steve finds something to add to the pro column of this new crazy millennia he's found himself defrosted in; tinted windows. 

Because he is currently sitting in the passenger side of Tony's town car with the extra dark tint that will "keep you incognito, capsicle" and someone has stopped to check their reflection on the window, through which they are now unintentionally staring Steve in the face.

And this person is, quite possibly, the most attractive man that Steve has ever had the pleasure of staring right back at. Like, _ Cary Grant _ attractive. If Cary Grant had worn his hair long and wavy, and had favoured tight pants and soft sweaters. Or sported a handsome tease of stubble across his impressive jawline (he doesn't know if Cary Grant's eyes had been comparable to the stormy grey of this strangers eyes, Steve has only ever seen him in black and white).

And before Steve is consciously aware of it, his hand has depressed the button to lower the window. The stranger is caught mid motion, attempting to fluff his hair by running his hands through it. And his expression is surprise with a healthy dose of panic. 

'Don't worry, you look great!'

'Oh, fuck,' the man says, with a strained whisper.

'Honestly,' Steve insists, 'Very pretty.'

'Ummm… I… I did not realise you were in there.'

'You got a hot date?' Steve asks and then raises his eyebrows when the man blushes right down to the V of his flattering neckline.

'No… an interview.'

Which is preferential for Steve, doubly so if the interview is in Avengers tower.

'Well, good luck,' he follows that sentiment through with a wink and the man's blush intensifies. 

'Uh, thank you.' He backs up, tripping slightly on the uneven pavement, 'Sorry,' he turns and makes his way to the building. Steve's appreciating the view as he raises the window back up to lean safely into the privacy it provides.

The man looks back to the car as he reaches the door and gives the tinted windows a hesitant little wave.

Steve now has two things to add to his pro column, tinted windows and pretty, adorably awkward, wavy haired strangers. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky attempts to adult. 
> 
> Spoiler, he's not great at it (except he is, just really adorably awkwardly).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've updated the chapter count and may need to change the rating later. 
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy some adorably awkward Bucky...

So that just happened. Bucky just checked himself out in some guys car window while the guy was right behind it. And not just _ some _ guy, because Bucky Barnes is nothing if not tragically awkward. So of course the guy was ridiculously beautiful. Not a normal amount, no exageration, _ stupidly _ beautiful. And just thinking about it, Bucky has tripped over his own feet twice now on his way through the lobby of Stark tower. _ Avengers _ tower, actually, he should say. 

The reception desk and security don’t take too long to get through once Bucky shows them his litany of identifying information and they confirm that yes he _ is _ on the list and yes he _ does _ have an appointment to meet with Stark Industries head of engineering for a real life actual job. 

And then when Bucky gets to the floor the honest to god _ artificial intelligence _ in the ceiling has directed him to, it turns out the head of the engineering department is actiually _ Tony _ fucking _ Stark_. Bucky may as well write this day off. Just stick a fork in him, he’s done.

‘What’s the matter, kid? Struck dumb?’ Tony asks as Bucky just stands there like a certifiable lump instead of using his brain to mouth neural synapses with any semblance of capability. ‘Oh god, you’re not actually like _ mute _ are you? Jesus, don’t tell Pepper I joked about that, I’ll have to do the sensitivity training again…’

‘No, I... sorry. I didn’t realise my interview would be with, you know…’ Bucky gestures at Tony and just sort of waves his hand around, ‘Iron Man.’

‘What, you don’t like Iron Man?’ Tony says, incredulous, ‘everybody likes Iron Man.’

‘No I _ love _ Iron Man,’ oh god, ‘no I mean, I don’t have a problem with Iron Man,’ great save Bucky. ‘I just... wasn’t expecting to be meeting him - you! Meeting _ you_, right off the bat.’

Tony Stark is looking at him like maybe he needs to call security to escort Bucky out of the building.

‘Shit, I’m really fucking this up.’

‘Nah, it’s sort of endearing actually,’ Tony says with a smirk, ‘Anyway. Talk to me about this project of yours.’

‘My bioprosthetic heart valve project?’

‘Yeah, specifically, talk to me about the surrogate management framework you implemented in your analysis.’ And Bucky forgets to be nervous, once he starts explaining his research and the optimisation he implemented into the bioprosthetic valves. It was a subject he could and would get pretty fanatical about. Bucky’s friends and family have learned to tune him out at the mere mention of coaptation and orifice areas. 

Tony maneuvers him over to a work bench to sit down while Bucky talks and doesn't stop. But Tony's questions suggest he's genuinely interested in Bucky’s research. And has already read his thesis. And is suddenly asking him to come back next Monday when his employee status will all be finalised.

‘I’m sorry, what?’

‘Monday. Can you start Monday, kid?’

‘Monday, yeah sure,’ Bucky breathes, ‘You just… I have the job? Just like that?’

‘What? You don’t want it?’

‘No! Yes! I mean-’

‘Cause I can give it to someone else, we had three thousand other applicants-’

‘I do, I want it!’

‘Good.’

‘You really had three thousand applicants?’

‘Jesus kid, I don’t know. Just, get yourself down to HR and I’ll see you next week.’

Holy shit.

‘Holy shit.’

Tony looks back over at him and this time, the crooked tilt of his mouth, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, suggest a genuine smile. Bucky must be beaming.

‘Yeah. Get over it quick, I expect you to be on your game in my labs.’

‘For sure, Mr Stark, I promise when it comes to my work I can be on my game.’

‘Right.’

Bucky tries to soak up all of the crazy, incredible tech that he hadn’t even noticed when he’d first walked into Tony Stark’s lab, except now that he's not talking about his project, his nerves are back. And he's in _ Tony Stark’s Lab _ and he suddenly _ has a job _working for Stark Industries, and might be able to actually improve the efficiency of prosthetic heart valves for real and not just theoretically and Bucky is maybe about to pass out. But he breaths, in and out, in through the nose, hold for five seconds, out through the mouth. Hold. repeat. Keep it together. Pretend you are a human adult who can function at human adult levels and just at least make it to the street before you scream. 

Bucky makes it to the street without screaming, but it’s a near thing. 

And even though it’s been an hour and a half since he arrived, Bucky is disappointed to find the big black Audi is gone. The beautiful blond stranger who had called him pretty and winked at him is gone. 

‘Well,’ Bucky says, talking to himself like the fully functioning human adult that he is, ‘you can’t have it all Barnes.’

And now suddenly its Monday and it's Bucky's first day of work as a grown up, even though he has technically been an adult, voting rights and everything, for a good eight years now. Bucky gets to Avengers tower and his employee pass swipes him into the elevators with a very satisfying, green lit chime. JARVIS, the charmingly British, disembodied voice from the ceiling, welcomes him to the building. And just as Bucky reaches the entrance to the research and development labs, a giant wall is thrown into his path in the shape of a very muscular, very tall, very beautiful blond man in extremely unfashionable chinos, whom he bounces right off to land on his ass. 

‘Fucking fuck,’ Bucky says, eloquent as ever, sprawled out on the hallway floor, surrounded by everything that has flown out of his bag and rained down upon him like a slow motion replay. 

‘Cary Grant?’ the giant blond wall says, looking down at Bucky. And Bucky knows that face. Has been dreaming about it for days.

‘Huh?’ he says back, managing not to blurt out anything incriminating, and sounding decidedly lacking in brain cells instead.

‘I mean, ah,’ the guy looks sheepish now, a bright peach flush staining his glorious cheek bones, and - shut up - even his blush is beautiful, ‘Shit, sorry,’ he reaches a hand down to Bucky and just plucks him right up off the floor like he’s made of paper. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Bucky exhales, ‘I’m fine.’ He looks the guy up and down and squares his shoulders, as if good posture will make him less of a human disaster. ‘You?’

‘I’m great,' says the guy. Which seems like kind of an understatement. But Bucky did just crash right into him, and Bucky may not be an all American beefcake, but neither is he a lightweight.

'I didn't hurt you though? I just kinda barreled right into you there.'

'Ah no, I'm tough to knock down.'

'I believe you.' Bucky pointedly does not ogle the impressive chest straining to get out of that plaid button up. Instead he looks around at the mess and realises he's going to be late on his first day. 'Crapsticks,' he sighs, kneeling down to gather it all up.

'Let me help you.' Blondie ducks down to pick up the strewn paperwork and frowns at one of the pieces. 'What is all this?'

'Just notes for integrating my analysis optimisation methodology into Stark Industries bioprosthetic research.' 

The guy is looking at the paperwork with a raised eyebrow (newsflash, it's a good look on him), and holds up the soft bound copy of his dissertation 'Is this you? James Buchanan Barnes?'

Bucky one hundred percent unironically scuffs his foot along the ground, 'Yeah, that's me. I'm James.' 

'Steve Rogers,' Blondie says, offering Bucky his hand to shake, 'glad you got the job.' 

'Bucky. I mean, you can call me that. Bucky,' Bucky is not ignorant to the fact that he's still holding Steve's hand, but his brain has shut up shop here and his hand just keeps right on holding.

Steve doesn't seem to mind, if his smile is anything to go by.

'Bucky,' he says, giving Bucky's hand a gentle squeeze, 'Can I take you out for coffee?'

Bucky's pretty sure his present systolic pressure indicates he's having a full on heart attack right now. But he pulls it together enough to say, 'I like coffee.'

'Well great!' Steve beams. And Bucky must be looking at him with something like 'lead on!' in his expression because he follows with, 'Perhaps not right now, wouldn't want you to get in trouble on your first day.'

And _ fuck _. He's about to be late for his first day.

'Right, sorry. Shit, I better-' Bucky cuts himself off to squat down and shove the rest of his stuff into his bag, regrettably letting go of Steve's hand in the process. Steve has stepped back to retrieve the wayward apple from Bucky's lunch. 

He hands it to Bucky with another of his devastating winks as he helps him back up to his feet. 'I'll come find you later.'

'Sure,' Bucky says, breathless, 'Thank you.'

'Good luck, Bucky.' Steve steps away and into the elevator with a jaunty wave, 'See you soon.'

Bucky waves back in a sort of trance. Despite contradicting evidence, Bucky isn't totally clueless.

He's in Avengers tower. 

That was Steve Rogers. 

Bucky has a coffee date with Captain America.

And is now officially late for his first day at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Steve.
> 
> And coffee.


	3. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets ready to woo the adorable Bucky.
> 
> And has to contend with some meddlesome avengers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays readers :)
> 
> *throws fluff at you all*

Steve is finally sure that the Universe is delivering on all the happiness it owes him. And it’s wrapped in an adorably Bucky Barnes shaped package. He may not have sunk the Valkyrie for the glory, but he's more than ready to accept the long standing series of tragedies in his life taking a swift turn for the better. 

Add to the twenty first century pro column: same sex dating with full legal support. New entry for the con column: Natasha Romanoff. Formerly on the fence - great gal to have on your side in a fight, not so much with the touchy feely stuff, dubious loyalties - Steve is slotting her into the ‘dislikes’ because he has discovered: she is a meddler. 

He was willing to let it slide when she meddled him into an apartment in Tony’s tower. He forgives her for the unfortunate set up with Lillian from SHIELDs accounts department, mostly because Lillian took him to a solo exhibition at an independant little gallery in Brooklyn and he now has someone to gush about modern art with. He’s not even that angry about the fact that she has, on four separate occasions, attempted to forcibly remove his, ‘revolting, old man pants,’ in a bid to get him into some suspiciously slim legged jeans. 

What he cannot forgive is her current successful attempt to background check the very sweet, very smart,  _ very _ attractive guy he is supposed to be going out for coffee with, sometime in the next thirty minutes.

‘This is a breach of privacy, Natasha, you can’t spy on my  _ date _ .’

‘I can, and I did,’ Natasha says, not an ounce of apprehension. ‘It’s literally my job, Steve.’

‘No, It’s your job to spy on threats to national security.’

‘That’s Homeland's job.’

‘Well, it’s your job to spy on  _ bad _ guys.’

‘How do you know they’re bad, until you spy on them?’ she asks, infuriatingly superior.

‘Natasha!’

‘Steve.’

‘He’s just a guy! A cute guy, who works for Tony. I’m sure Tony wouldn’t hire anyone nefarious.’

‘Tony would and  _ has _ hired some pretty questionable people,’ she says, rolling her eyes, ‘come on, his longest standing employee was a murdering, terrorist group arming, megalomaniac.’

‘Well… just,’ Steve is at a loss for exactly what he wants to say. Because this _ is _ a giant breach of Bucky’s privacy. But Natasha has her heart in the right place. ‘Don’t tell me anything.’

‘I’ll tell you one thing.’

‘No.’

‘He speaks three languages.’

‘Oh my god, why would you tell me that!’ Steve yells, and his heart is beating a little fast, which, as a genetically enhanced super soldier, he's not really used to. He caught a look at that research Bucky was doing and it was impressive (he understood the words, as actual individual words, he has no idea what they meant in context) and now he speaks three languages? 'Which three?' 

'English, Romanian, French,' Natasha ticks them off on her fingers one by one. 

'What do I do with that?'

'Be impressed,' she says, still looking infuriatingly smug, 'He's also a volunteer at Bravo Volunteer Ambulance.’

‘Stop with the things!’ Steve is feeling so intimidated now he wants to lie down. Natasha is actually smiling. He’s never seen her actually smile before. It’s frightening. 

‘Try and pull yourself together Rogers, you’re meant to be meeting this guy in twenty two minutes.’

Steve looks down at his watch and curses. Which earns him a raised eyebrow from Natasha. Like Captain America is not supposed to swear, nevermind he spent years leading a group of soldiers around Europe, whose entire vocabulary consisted of foul language and rude hand gestures. Even if Steve had been a delicate little flower before the serum and the war (he was not. He’s always been an asshole) he’s seen enough between now and then (and _ done _ enough, let's be honest) that a few ‘fucks’ aren’t going to bother him.

‘And please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing.’

‘What’s wrong with this?’ He’s in his nicest pants and the only shirt he owns that doesn’t require an iron (he’s never taken to ironing).

‘You’re wardrobe is a travesty.’

‘It’s what SHIELD issued me!’

‘Yeah, because they didn’t want to culture shock you into the twenty first century. But even my grandpa wouldn’t be caught dead in those pants.’

‘You don’t have a grandpa.’

‘I probably do, I just never met him,’ her smug grin is back, ‘I’m making an informed assumption.’

‘I don’t have time for this,’ Steve says, mostly to himself. Natasha gives him a patronisingly exaggerated air kiss as he gets up from the island bench in the ridiculously large kitchen in his ridiculously large apartment. He checks his hair in the mirror over the console by the door. It is, as ever, a fluffy disaster. ‘How am I supposed to make this work,’ he grumbles, pulling at it, pushing it, flattening it, to no avail.

Natasha, who has silently appeared on his left, reaches up to run her hands through his fringe. 

‘Like this, idiot.’

He scowls at her. If he could just slick it back like the girls on the USO tour used to do for him, it would be easy. But Steve isn’t oblivious to trends. He knows he looks old fashioned. He just hasn’t had a good reason to care about that since he woke up and realised how much time has passed him by. And right now he has someone important to meet, and to maybe woo, and to sweep off his feet, so fuck his stupid fluffy hair, and fuck fashion, and, okay, thank Natasha for trying to help. 

‘I gotta head off,’ he says, tilting his head back away from her machinations, ‘I’m guessing I don’t need to tell you how it goes,’ he’s pretty sure she’ll know it before he does. 

‘Get it, Rogers,’ she says with a wink. He shakes his head, but can’t help smiling at her. 

Natasha should really be in the pro column. It’s nice to have friends. 

Even if they are creepy, meddling, overly condescending ex KGB assassins. 

  
  


When he wanders into the lab, Bucky, hair swept up off his face, leaning over a bench covered in technological debris (and Steve may need to rethink his stance on slim legged jeans, if this is what they do to your ass), is deep in conversation with Tony. Tony is not exactly Steve’s favourite person, though living in his building, potentially dating his employee, makes that stance difficult for Steve to sit with. 

‘Yo, Captain Virtuous.’

But Tony makes himself awfully hard to like. 

‘Tony.’

‘To what do we owe the pleasure of your esteemed presence?’

‘Hi Steve,’ Bucky says from behind Tony, who spins around at the sound of Steve’s first name. 

‘Oh  _ Steve _ is it?’ Tony says, eyebrows up in his hairline, ‘are you here for my new boy-genius?’

‘I’m taking Bucky out for coffee, yes.’

‘Bucky? What’s a bucky?’ 

‘Me, I’m a Bucky,’ Bucky says, ‘Only my mom calls me James.’

‘What, you let me call you James like a punk this whole time? How come I didn’t know about your shitty nickname?’ Tony looks between Steve and Bucky like a kicked puppy.

‘I mean, to be fair, you’ve been calling me some variation of kid, kiddo and boy-wonder for most of the day…’

‘You  _ wound _ me.’

‘Are you free to go now, Buck, or you need more time?’ Steve asks, because, well, he’d really like to just get the hell out of there. 

‘Tony? Did you need me to stay?’

‘Nah, go, take a load off, defile a superhero,’ Tony makes a lewd gesture with his eyebrows, ‘Though I don’t know which one of you maidenly maidens is going to be corrupting the other ones innocence.’

‘What innocence do you think I have left to corrupt, Tony?’ Steve asks. 

‘History has you pegged as the virginal type, Cap.’

‘Factually incorrect.’

‘And dear old dad always said you were something of a noob with the ladies.’

‘With the ladies, yes,’ Steve clarifies, ‘But pretty fucking expert at the fellas.’ Which is true. Steve was always popular with a certain type of guy, as much before as after his enhancements.

Steve clocks Bucky’s blush in his periphery and smiles, bats his lashes (Steve knows how to work his assets) and follows the hollow of Bucky's throat, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows.

‘Well by all means,’ says Tony with a sweeping gesture in Bucky’s direction, ‘Corrupt away.’

‘I don’t… what is happening right now?’ Bucky asks, hesitating to step forward.

‘Just ignore Tony, he likes to be an asshole.’

‘He’s my  _ boss, _ ’ Bucky whispers at Steve, though Tony is well within ear shot. And Steve should be more respectful. Because Tony may be a shit, and none of this will actually impact his opinion of Bucky, but Bucky doesn’t know that. And it is his  _ first day _ .

‘Sorry, it’s fine, he’s just teasing us,’ Steve holds out a hand to Bucky, ‘We can bring him back a six shot espresso if you’re worried.’

‘I know you’re joking, but I want that.’ Tony says, not looking up from whatever task he’s turned back to at his bench.

Bucky reaches out to take Steve’s outstretched hand. ‘We can do that Tony, can't we, Steve?'

Steve is ninety percent sure at this point he would say yes to anything Bucky asked for.

'Anything for Tony.' He can just about hear Tony's prolific eye roll from across the lab. Maybe he'll spit in his coffee when Bucky's not looking.

They take the elevator to the lobby and Steve doesn’t let go of Bucky’s hand. Bucky is quiet, but looking up at Steve periodically through the escaped tendrils of his swept up hair. 

‘So what are you and Tony up to in there?’ Steve asks, 'Am I allowed to ask? Is it classified?'

‘No, you can ask,' Bucky says, giving Steve's hand a squeeze. 'We're just making a plan for integrating my work into the existing projects Tony's alreading managing.’

'And he's okay? Not causing you any trouble?'

'Who, Tony? No, no trouble. He's pretty amazing actually!'

Steve tries hard not to be bothered by that.

'Not, like, Captain America amazing,' Bucky adds quickly, 'I mean-'

'lt's good that you get along,' Steve bumps Bucky's shoulder.

'Yeah, I just. I'm excited about the work we'll be doing.' 

And he looks excited. With all the talk of his being a boy-genius, Steve wonders how old Bucky actually is. For speaking three languages, volunteering for Ambulance services - in Brooklyn of all places (Steve is sure the Universe has a hand in this) - and optimising mechanical heart valves for a billionaire with a god complex, he seems awfully young.

'He calls you "boy-genius", is that…'

'Nah, he's full of it.' Bucky waves away the name, 'he'd already been the CEO of his company for five years by the time he was my age.' He smiles at Steve. 'He just doesn't have a PhD. I think he's jealous.'

'You're a doctor huh?' Steve isn't sure why that's so attractive, but his pants are starting to feel a little tight.

'Yeah, not that it means much really. This was like the forty seventh job I applied for.'

'I got denied from enlisting I don’t know how many times before Erskine took me onto the super soldier project,' 

'I guess job hunting is a bitch in any century,' Bucky says, smiling up at Steve. Steve sort of wants to skip coffee and take Bucky straight home. 'Where are you taking me anyway?'

'This little place I like, Happy Bones? I like their cups.'

'You like their cups, huh?' he says with a chuckle, 'That's cute.'

'Hush.'

Steve ignores Bucky’s ‘that’s cute’ reverberating around in his temporal lobe as the elevator reaches the garage and he leads Bucky through the cars to his Harley.

'We're taking your bike?' Bucky asks, eyes wide.

‘Is that okay? It’s a ten minute ride or a forty minute walk.’

‘No, I… its fine,’ Bucky trails long, elegant fingers along the sleek black fuel tank, ‘It’s beautiful.’

Steve watches Bucky’s hands on his bike and wants to reach out for him. Instead he hands over his helmet, 'You'll have to sit behind me,' he says and slides his leg over the seat, pulling Bucky gently into position behind him, arranging his hands around Steve’s waist, ‘Hold tight.’

And once Bucky is ready they take off. Steve settles into the peace of Bucky’s arms around him as the bike glides through traffic, his helmeted head resting against Steve’s shoulder. 

(This, the bike, Bucky on the back, riding through New York, shared warmth in the cooling fall air. This is all going into the pro column).

It's not long before they're pulling up at the cafe, a tiny little shop neighboured by a barber and an antique store, just enough parking for Steve to leave his bike at the curb. Bucky removes his helmet with a graceful arc of tossed hair. It's… the sort of image that makes Steve glad to have an eidetic memory. And Bucky's grin is indication enough that he knows exactly how good that looked. Whether he planned it that way, or is just reading Steve's flushed reaction, Steve can’t tell. 

He takes them into the tiny shop and orders their coffees, the cups are blue and white this week - Steve's still impressed with the way they can get surrealist art onto coffee cups of all things - and Bucky nudges him with a soft elbow to mutter 'so cute,' under his breath. The cups are  _ great _ , Steve stands by it. 

They walk through Soho with their drinks and Steve might be distracted by the smell, the traffic, the colour, the sounds, but really, he hardly notices the differences today, not while he's teasing conversation out of the adorable man whose hand he's holding. Not while he returns the smile of a woman pushing her toddler in a pram with her wife's arms around her. Not while he's excited by the prospect of Bucky's arms tight around  _ him _ for the length of the ride home. It's a beautiful day, and he feels it. 

  
  


The ride feels too short, even with the (numerous) minor detours Steve takes to have Bucky hold him just that little bit longer. Steve escorts Bucky all the way back up to his lab, empty in the afternoon, no Tony in sight. Bucky places the extra extra strong iced latte he got for Tony on his bench. 

'Thank you for today,' Bucky says, 'I don't get into Manhattan much, it was nice.'

'You prefer to stick close to Brooklyn?' Steve asks, thinking of Bucky's volunteer work.

'You been checking up on me, Stevie?'

Oh god, he has. Or Natasha has. SHIELD has. They've been spying on him.

'Relax, I figured,' he says, placating with a soft hand to Steve's chest, 'you're a National hero, they must have run all sorts of checks on me.'

'Yeah, no, I didn't! I told them not to.'

'Its okay,' he smiles, 'I bet they'll be disappointed by how boring I am.'

'They couldn't be,' Steve puts his own hand over Bucky's, 'you're amazing.'

'Oh really, so you  _ were _ checking.'

'Just Natasha was telling me some things, I think you actually impressed the Black Widow.' Steve laughs at the slightly terrified look Bucky gives him thinking about the Black Widow going through his file. 

'Guess I have to get used to that, you name dropping Avengers around the place?' and Steve's heart does a little tap dance at the idea of Bucky wanting to "get used to" being around him. 

'I'd like that,' Steve guides his free hand around to tuck a stranded lock of Bucky's hair behind his ear and then trace his beautifully sharp cheekbone. Bucky closes his eyes as Steve leans in and presses their lips together softly. 

He gently opens into Bucky's mouth, allowing his tongue to glide ever slightly against his top lip. Bucky reaches up into it, changing the angle just a little by standing on his toes. Running his free hand around Steve's waist and crowding him into the bench of the lab. He tastes like hazelnut syrup and spearmint and Steve wants to lick into him, but pulls back. Bucky is at work, this is his lab, Steve doesn't want to get him in trouble.

Bucky exhales a disappointed huff as Steve leans his head back.

'Sorry Buck,' Steve doesn't let Bucky pull away, exerting some small pressure on the hand still on his chest, 'I hate to think Tony's recording this somewhere and you might get in trouble.'

'Never fear, Captain Rogers,' JARVIS says from his robot voice in the ceiling that Steve will never get used to. Bucky flinches perceptibly at the interruption, 'Though Mr Stark asked me to record any, I quote, “Super Soldier shenanigans” for posterity, the request violated several of my privacy protocols.' 

'Jesus, Tony-'

'Oh, good,' Bucky says at the same time, vaguely shell-shocked.

'Thank you, JARVIS,' Steve let's go of Bucky, mood suddenly dampened, 'I Better let you get back to work.' 

Bucky smiles and takes a step back, 'Yeah… thank you though, for the coffee I mean… maybe we could do it again? Dinner, maybe?'

'Dinner sounds great!' Steve agrees, and Bucky blushes with a soft smile. It hits Steve in his chest, the warmth of that smile.

'I'll give you my number,' Bucky writes it down on a slip of paper off the bench, 'You can text or call anytime.' And Steve takes it with reverence. It's an invitation into Bucky's life, he's aware of how much of an extension of self a phone is to people in this strange new century. 

'I would give you my number, but I don't actually know what it is.' Which is true. Steve uses his phone for work and to google. Google is a lifeline.

'I have it, Captain Rogers, if you need it,' says JARVIS.

'Thanks JARVIS.'

Bucky types the series of numbers directly into his phone with a fond nod to the ceiling.

‘I guess, I’ll call you?’ Bucky says, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

‘I’ll be waiting to hear from you,’ Steve says and cringes, that makes him sound like a creepy loser, ‘Forget I said that,’ he says, ‘Pretend I said something suave instead.’

‘All I hear when you talk is suave, Steve, you got nothing to worry about.’ 

And Steve can’t help but kiss Bucky again for that, lingering a little indecently with his teeth around Bucky’s bottom lip - it’s very biteable.

‘You should get out of here before Tony comes back,’ Bucky says, pulling away, ‘I don’t want him holding up score cards or something.’

‘See,’ Steve laughs, ‘Now you’re getting it.’ He lets Bucky go and heads to the door, not quite able to turn away, ‘Bye Buck.’

‘See you, Stevie.’ Bucky calls back, not turning away either until Steve is out of sight.

Steve wants to somehow add this whole day to his list. Well, it’s his list, he can put whatever the fuck he wants on there, so when he gets home, ‘Days spent with Bucky,’ is going straight to the top.

Now he just needs to enlist someone to teach him about texting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying this as much as I am. So fun to write!
> 
> xxx


	4. Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky asks Steve on a proper, grown up date.
> 
> And they're both adorable.
> 
> It's a festival of fluff.

Bucky watches Steve in a sort of lust filled stupor as he backs his way out of the labs. Of course the man can walk backwards out of a room and navigate every single obstacle with ease. That sweet smile never leaving his face. Bucky’s going to be seeing that smile in his dreams. Probably for the rest of his life.

Tony comes back later to find him still standing there (a happy little ‘huh’ when he finds his extra, extra strength iced latte), vaguely working on some bullet points with his focus mostly on the way Steve had felt so warm and solid in his arms. How deliciously firm his stomach had been to hold onto. How stupidly in over his head Bucky already is after one date. _ Half _ a date really. Does coffee count as a date? It feels more like, date adjacent.

‘Put your lovesick puppy dog eyes away,’ Tony grouches after taking one look at the screen Bucky is working on, ‘Get to work!’

It would be more threatening if Tony wasn’t so obviously trying to hide his glee. Though he has a point. This is still Bucky’s first day, not a great idea to be slacking off already.

‘Sorry, boss,’ Bucky says, no hint of smirk. 

‘And no sass,’ Tony adds, ‘There’ll be no sass in this lab.’

One of Tony’s robots, Bucky hadn’t been given their names yet, rotates its arm back and forth, like a shaking head, like indicating Tony is full of shit. Bucky gives it a discreet thumbs up and it opens and closes its claw hand with a pleased little beep. 

Bucky wonders what world he woke up into this morning that he's now making robot friends and adjacently dating a superhero. 

Tony sends him home after another hour of nutting out their plans and Bucky takes the subway in a daze. Startled back to reality with a text that vibrates in his pocket.

**Received: **Hi Bucky, this is Steve.

Possibly the cutest-ly awkward text he’s ever been sent. It deserves a cute response. Though Bucky’s brain is in a bit of a free-fall, so any text he composes might be respectively compromised. 

**Sent:** Well hello Steve.

**Received: **Okay, I may not be up to speed on texting etiquette. Bare with me.

Oh. Steve Rogers is going to be the death of him. Bucky types back with enthusiasm;

**Sent: **I await all future communication with apprehensive excitement.

knowing it will make Steve laugh, remembering his and Tony’s back and forth and how much of a mouthy shit Steve actually is.

He watches the three little dots as they blink in and out while Steve writes back. God, it’s been a while since he felt this invested in somebody. Possibly ever.

**Received: **Be nice. I am but a poor, lost, traveller through time. 

Bucky smiles into his screen as he types back.

**Sent:** Wow, I had no idea I was dating such a drama queen.

And then freaks out when he realises what he just said. He types again furiously, heart beating.

**Sent: ** so **, **that implied that were dating

**Sent: **i mightbe getting ahead of myself

Why does texting not have a delete function! 

**Sent:** its cool if your not there yet

_ Fuck _, Bucky. Get it together.

**Sent: **sry, totally disregard those texts and pretend I have chill 

He’s staring at the ellipses and willing them to reveal something, anything, and not just disappear into nothing. He worries for a second that they’ve done just that until the text appears.

**Received: **Bucky, I absolutely think we are dating.

Oh, thank god.

**Received: **And I prefer the term, histrionic. I’m not regal enough for nobility. 

Jesus, Steve Rogers is a total nerd.

**Received**: You are the chillest. 

But absolutely perfect.

**Sent: **omg you are adorable

**Received: **Please be aware, I have been googling the following:

  * Guides to understanding Millennial language
  * Tips for how to text your crush
  * Emoji’s and what they mean

How am I doing? Feedback is encouraged.

Bucky reads that last text with his hand over his mouth. He’s smiling like an idiot and doesn’t give a shit. Everything about Steve is unbelievably beautiful. And the image of him sitting by a computer, googling tips on how to text your crush? Bucky’s heart is fit to explode.

His hands are shaking as he types back.

**Sent: **i’m your crush?

**Received**: Did I not make that obvious? I meant to make that obvious ;)

Bucky wonders how this is even his life. He texts back;

**Sent**: 10/10 emoji use

**Sent:** Chillest - 100% millennial

**Sent**: texting your crush? Can confirm, extremely successful

Under normal circumstances, Bucky would try to play it cool here, maybe not show his hand (although, let’s be honest, he has never felt like this after _ one _ date-not-date in his life), but he knows Steve is being totally honest with him, and Bucky wants to return that trust. 

**Sent: **sort of can’t wait to see you again and its been less than a day

**Received**: Are you free for dinner tomorrow?

Bucky doesn’t actually know if he is, but he’ll make sure he can be.

**Sent**: yes. wanna come to mine? 

He's recently inhabited a one bedroom one bathroom apartment in Weeksville in a pre-war, three floor walk up. It’s beautiful, hardwood floors and high ceilings, original fireplace in the living space (which is also the bedroom…) but he shares the kitchen with the adjoining apartment, an army vet by the name of Frank Castle. Who has barely spoken four words to Bucky since he moved in, is as gruff as they come, and is somehow still the sweetest person Bucky has ever met in Brooklyn. 

Frank very rarely uses the kitchen. 

**Sent**: i’ll cook…

It should be fine.

**Received**: That sounds amazing Bucky. I’d love to.

**Received**: Yas (I'm assured this means, emphatically yes)

So adorable.

They text back and forth to confirm details and all Bucky has to do now is figure out what to cook.

And _ how _to cook.

He avoids pinterest - because it's laughably unkind to beginners (he learnt that lesson the hard way) and any blogs that have high quality production value. Instead he sticks to youtube tutorials and finds a cute video for chicken alfredo penne that looks easy. Except he has to then google how to dice chicken breast (and which of Frank’s knives to use), how to keep the white sauce from clumping up and the difference between fresh parsley and parsley flakes. 

He makes three separate trips to the buga deli grocery around the corner - who don’t close till eleven, thank god - before he packs all the food and dishes away and collapses into bed in his sweats, flour in his hair and a full stomach. Frank was laconically appreciative of the two tubs of somewhat failed cheesy chicken pasta that Bucky offered, grunted an affirmative to Bucky's request of unfettered access to the kitchen tomorrow night and offered a minute facial expression in response to whether he minded keeping himself scarce for the night. Bucky can hear him next door, watching his telenovela and presumably eating a giant bowl of lumpy penne. 

He has work in the morning, which means pottering around the labs of Avengers tower knowing Steve will be somewhere in the building. Possibly working out, possibly showering, possibly being just as nervous as Bucky is right now about their date. 

It’s a blessing really, all the exhausting practice cooking he’s been doing, because he’s so tired that, despite the barrage of ridiculous thoughts rolling around in his brain, he falls asleep before midnight and doesn’t wake up until his alarm goes off. 

Work goes by surprisingly quickly, considering Bucky is vibrating with excitement, which he can probably attribute to Tony’s mania as much as anything. It’s infectious, and Bucky remembers to eat lunch only because JARVIS reminds him. And before he has enough time to obsess over it, it’s time to go, take the subway home and prep everything for dinner.

He’s tidied the apartment.

He’s prepped the food.

He’s changed his outfit three times and settled for his favourite pink, three quarter length crew neck t-shirt with blue jeans. He’s not sure about it, but when in doubt, why not at least be comfortable?

And the clock has barely struck seven when Bucky hears the knock on the front door. He takes a breath and holds it for the count of five. Lets it out through his nose slowly.

He opens the door gently, to a much sharper version of Steve Rogers than the one who left him in the lab yesterday.

‘Wow,’ he says, looking Steve up and down, taking in the tight black trousers, tight white t-shirt and blue, upright-collared jacket.

Steve smiles like the devil and leans into the admiration. ‘Wow yourself,’ he says, giving Bucky a reciprocal once over and smiling wider.

Bucky steps back from the doorway, heart a mess, ‘Come in, come in,’ he says, gesturing for Steve to come through. He passes by Bucky in the door and keeps from touching him by a hair’s breadth. And somehow the lack of touch is as electrifying as Bucky imagines his hairdryer might be in a bathtub full of water. 

‘I like your place, Buck,’ Steve says, spinning to take it all in, lingering on the fireplace and the family photos on the mantel. It’s not much, his apartment, essentially just three rooms (and the kitchen is shared), but Bucky fell in love with its character and thinks that Steve might appreciate that too.

‘It’s little, but I like it.’

‘It’s beautiful.’ Steve is eyeing the original crown mouldings, the stained wood floors and casement windows that bracket the fireplace. Bucky wonders if he feels the warmth of the history in the building the way that Bucky does. 

He hangs Steve’s jacket by the door and draws him into the kitchen. He offers Steve a cold glass of fresh lime and soda and begins to meticulously recreate the steps he memorised last night. Steve watches him, rapt, breathing over Bucky’s shoulder, his body millimeters from being pressed against the length of Bucky’s (which makes it very difficult for Bucky to keep his concentration) asking questions about the cheese, the herbs, the roux, even the pan he’s using (Frank’s skillet - complete with suspicious dent in its edge). Bucky answers, laughing, and imagines what it would feel like to push back, just that fraction, to lean against the hard lines of muscle he knows makeup Steve’s chest. But he doesn’t. Not yet.

Once its finished and plated up, Bucky leads them to the rickety two seater breakfast table he has set up in his living space. Steve is sitting with a view to the windows which leaves Bucky to stare at the double bed along the opposite wall, the three seater couch is against the wall adjacent. Steve is eating with gusto, complimenting everything from the moisture in the chicken to the creaminess of the sauce. Then he’s talking about something, work related maybe, or not - is he allowed to talk about work? - while he eats, somewhat elegantly for the sheer amount and appreciation he seems to be experiencing. Only, Bucky is having trouble paying attention. Because Bucky is looking over at his bed piled high with fluffy pastel blankets and chekered black and white throw pillows and wonders what the fuck he was thinking. It looks so _ inviting _ . That was _ not _ his intention at the time.

Steve looks at Bucky and his eyes move from Bucky to the bed and back again, with a slow smile spreading.

‘You okay there Buck?’ he asks, lips twitching. 

‘Yes, fine,’ Bucky answers, face on fire. Because he can’t hide that all he’s thinking about now is what Steve would look like spread out across the tempting softness of Bucky’s bed. 

(Big - he’d look huge - the bulk of him, broad shoulders, round ass, long legs, practically draping over all four sides of that stupid bed.

Jesus.)

Steve doesn’t ask again, but he does lean onto his elbows, pressing himself into Bucky’s space on the tiny table. Bucky can feel himself leaning into Steve like he has his own gravitational force. The sudden fear of his elbow landing in his bowl of pasta has him jumping up from the table to clear the dishes. Steve follows him just as suddenly, grabbing everything still on the table to stack it by the sink in the kitchen.

‘We can leave it, Frank won’t be bothered by the dishes.’

‘Frank?’

'My neighbour,' Bucky says, gesturing with his head through the kitchen to Frank's adjoining apartment, 'we share the kitchen.'

'Ah,' Steve says, peering through the closed door as if he can use x-ray vision (which Bucky is not aware he has, but who knows?) to assess Frank's threat level.

'He's lovely, Steve,' Bucky assures him, though Steve doesn't appear convinced, 'he's a very friendly, very _ quiet _ neighbour,' Bucky says pointedly, 'be nice.'

'I'm always nice.'

'I don't actually believe that,' Bucky says, with a soft elbow to Steve's ribs, scooting him out of the way of the sink, 'go sit, I'll be one minute.'

Steve looks at him with narrowed eyes, but does as he's told, which is to say, he takes a seat in the living room, only, not on the couch as Bucky had imagined, but right in the middle of Bucky’s bed. 

So of course that’s how Bucky finds him when he comes back from the kitchen. Just sitting on his favourite blanket, hands behind him, legs crossed at the ankles. It’s scary how much Bucky loses focus in that moment, just honing in on the way Steve’s shoulders bulge, flexed as they are with the weight of his body on them, the way his chest is expanded, the length of his strong, thick legs. They take up almost the whole bed, with his hands just near the wall. He could have just sat himself against it, surely, but would’ve then lost the opportunity to expose his assets. And Bucky is as much turned on as terrified of Steve like this.

Because Bucky can pull off cute, he can do attractive, when he’s eating right and has enough time and money to be working out (and thank god he’s been using running as a way to let off all the steam of his failed job prospects lately) but he’s just a regular guy. And Steve is… Steve is like… a god. 

‘Ah…’ he tries, but actual words don’t seem to want to come out of his mouth.

Steve sits up, pulls his legs up and crosses them underneath him, ‘you don’t have a television,’ he says to Bucky as he pats the space next to him on the bed in invitation.

‘No.’ Bucky just uses his laptop. He doesn’t watch that much TV anymore, his whole life has been research and job applications and grant proposals and dissertations, he usually just reads when he’s not running. But he has a netflix account. And he’s lately been weirdly fixated on eighties sitcoms and bad sci-fi. 

‘What did you have in mind for us?’ Steve asks, still waiting for Bucky to come to him, smiling, one eyebrow raised. Almost like a challenge, but it’s very playful. Something settles in Bucky at the lilting smile in the corner of Steve’s perfect lips. 

‘Well,’ Bucky starts, because honestly, he hadn’t thought much beyond managing to get dinner made and eaten, ‘I could make tea? We could just, um, talk?’ 

Steve smiles that devils smile again, because he can see exactly how Bucky feels about him being in his bed right now. But he’s not going to push, he just nods and says, ‘tea sounds great.’

So Bucky retreats back to the safety of the kitchen and tries to switch his brain on while he fills the kettle and gets his pot down from the shelf. Peppermint. Peppermint always helps him think.

He has Steve Rogers in his bed. 

And for some reason Steve is looking at Bucky like Bucky is food and Steve is a starving man. 

But Bucky is not ready to have sex with Steve tonight, not because he cares about some shitty dating rules or whatever. It’s clear from Tony and Steve’s conversation the other day that Steve is pretty experienced and doesn’t care much for any antiquated ‘virtue’ nonsense. But Bucky needs time to process a move like sex. He likes to be very mentally prepared for that sort of thing (he’s a bit of a control freak). 

However, Bucky’s brain reminds him, as he spoons the leaves into the pot’s infuser, there’s no reason he can’t let his body carry on its reaction to that kiss from the lab yesterday. Kissing doesn’t require mental preparedness. Kissing can be just as nice as sex. In fact, just the image of crawling into Steve’s lap to take his face in his hands, run his fingers through that beautifully fluffy blond hair, press hip lips to Steve’s, lick into his mouth, rock down into the warmth of him, that image is really more appealing to Bucky than his tea right now. 

He pours water into the pot when it's boiled, leaves it on the counter to steep, and takes a few tentative steps into the living room. 

Steve has his phone in his hands, is frowning at it a little. It’s a very sweet frown. 

‘Hey,’ Bucky says softly. 

Steve looks up and tucks his phone into his pocket, ‘Hey.’

Bucky takes a few steps closer and stands in front of the bed where Steve is sitting, ‘Come here,’ he smiles and gestures Steve closer. 

Steve uncrosses his legs and shuffles forward on the bed, one eyebrow raised again, but no hesitation. When he gets close enough, Bucky hooks a finger into the crew neck of his t-shirt and pulls gently. Steve is drawn in more than willingly, if the dilation of his pupils, the increased breathing, the beaming smile, are any indication. 

‘Okay?’ Bucky asks, because, well, it’s always nice to be sure. Steve elects to place his hands on Bucky’s hips in reply. Bucky gets a hand under Steve’s knee to tug at his leg until he’s sitting properly enough on the edge of the bed that Bucky can burrow into the space between his thighs. ‘Okay,’ Bucky says, firmly, and leans towards Steve, reaching out to brush his cheeks with both hands. 

As Bucky’s lips touch Steve’s, Steve’s hands tighten on Bucky’s hips and Bucky reaches his own hands up into Steve’s hair. He uses his tongue to press gently into Steve’s mouth and hums with pleasure as Steve lets him in, opens up to him. He lifts his knees onto the bed, thighs either side of Steve’s thighs, settling down onto the deliciously hard seat of Steve’s lap. It feels so much fucking better than he even imagined. 

Steve smells like expensive cologne and freshly washed clothes, he tastes like the sweet, citrus-y lime from his soda. It feels like coming home, Bucky’s hands in his hair, gently tugging and pulling little huffs of breath from Steve between kisses. And it’s so warm and comforting, when Steve’s hands glide up Bucky’s hips and under his t-shirt.

‘Fuck, you’re skin’s so soft, Buck,’ Steve whispers into Bucky’s mouth, biting into Bucky’s bottom lip and then sucking it between his own. Bucky leans into Steve’s hands, arching up into the touch, which propels Steve to thrust his hips into Bucky, and Bucky in return to grind down into Steve’s lap.

It gets more frantic and less gentle after that and though Bucky is loving every second of his mouth on Steve, Steve’s hands on him, the rocking and grinding of their hips setting an intoxicating friction against Buck’s very full erection, he pulls himself back before Steve can ruck his t-shirt any further past his chest than his armpits.

‘The tea’s ready,’ Bucky says through heavy breaths as he pulls away from Steve without actually moving from his lap.

‘Huh?’ Steve looks a little shell shocked. 

‘You gotta let me up, honey, the tea will be ready,’ Bucky smiles as he says it and winds his hands down to Steve’s hands to gently lift them off his skin.

‘Yes, right,’ Steve makes a valiant effort to come back to earth, ‘the tea.’

Bucky looks down at him fondly and extricates himself from Steve’s lap, ‘If I don’t stop now, I won’t stop Stevie,’ he says gently, ‘and I’m not ready for that yet.’

That certainly has Steve sitting up straighter, ‘Of course, Buck,’ he says, all chivalrous and understanding, ‘That’s fine. It’s good.’ He scoots to the very edge of the bed and stands, fixing his rumpled clothing and running his hands through his thoroughly dishevelled hair. ‘Sorry, I got a bit… carried away.’

‘Me too,’ Bucky says, carding a hand through Steve’s hair to help set it to rights, ‘felt so good.’ 

He keeps smiling at Steve, probably looking like he belongs in a toothpaste commercial, and backs away into the kitchen. He pulls mugs down from the cupboard and pours the tea, still smiling, one hand tracing the feel of Steve’s teeth along his swollen lip. 

When he comes back out, Steve is sitting at the table with his legs crossed and a sheepish grin. Which just makes Bucky laugh.

‘It’s perfect, Stevie, you’re perfect,’ he says, putting the mug down in front of him and then leaning in for a quick kiss to his red, red lips, ‘Thank you for coming to dinner.’

Steve pushes into the kiss just a little, like he doesn’t want to let Bucky go. But he lifts the tea to sip at it, once Bucky is sat down across from him. He looks awfully happy with himself.

‘Thank you for having me,’ Steve smiles. He reaches his hand across the table top and takes Bucky’s hand. ‘My turn next?’

‘I’d like that,’ Bucky replies, because a second date means more Steve and more kissing. More of everything. And he definitely wants that. ‘I’m all yours.’

‘I will hold you to that, Mr Barnes,’ Steve says, devil’s grin back in place. ‘You won’t be sorry.’

Bucky’s pretty sure there isn’t any way he could be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter gets a new rating.
> 
> Coming soon...
> 
> [Bucky's apartment inspirations](https://darter-blue.tumblr.com/post/190053938088/1908-building-in-weeksville-brooklyn-fireplace)


	5. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's plans for Bucky get only slightly waylaid.
> 
> Not necessarily in a bad way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating change, heed the new tags.
> 
> Happy days!

Steve stands outside of Bucky’s door with his hard on trapped in ridiculously tight pants and practices his breathing techniques. He had some similar exercises for his asthma as a kid, but these are what his doctor has been helping him use as a ‘coping mechanism’ for when it all gets to be too much for him (it's happened a few times, and, with everything he’s seen and done, and being where and when he is, he won’t punish himself for that).

But Jesus, Mary and Joseph… Bucky is something else. Steve knows his way around all types of men, but Bucky is altogether different. Not afraid to tell Steve what he’s ready for, calm in the understanding of his own body and mind. It’s lovely, he’s lovely. Steve could just fall to his knees and offer him everything and he probably will. But he'll hold onto dignity for at least another twenty four hours. And then Steve can give himself leave to fall apart all over him. 

Downstairs he climbs onto his bike and foregoes a helmet, he doesn’t need it - doesn't care to hear otherwise - but he does need the air to speed past him, through him, to cool him down tonight. He’d like to make it home without the awkward pain of his erection evident for whomsoever might be waiting for him like a hawk when he gets there. 

It’s only a half hour ride (at Steve's speed) over the bridge and to the tower. And, not surprisingly, Tony is loitering, only he has Pepper with him, of all people, so Steve can't be rude - Pepper inspires respect in a way Tony can't - which makes polite avoidance his best option. 

‘Ms Potts, Tony,’ Steve nods as he approaches them in the garage.

'Steve!' Pepper says, eyeing him speculatively, 'You look nice, where have you been?'

'Date night with boy Wonder!' Tony interjects, 'Looking good, Captain tight-pants.'

Steve desperately ignores the need to readjust his crotch and forces a small smile. 'Yeah I'm… going for a more slim-lined aesthetic.'

'Did Natasha take you shopping?' Tony asks; a question Steve is genuinely offended by. Do people assume he's not capable of _ shopping _ now? 

'You know they had stores in the forties,' he's not sure if he manages to keep the disdain out if his voice there. He catches Pepper quietly laugh into her closed fist. 

‘Then what’s up with all the frumpy old man outfits you've subjected us to?’

‘Geez, Tony,' he bites back, 'I'm real sorry my fashion choices haven’t been seductive enough for you,’ hiding his laugh in a cough while Tony blusters his way through a denial, ‘I’ll be sure and keep my impressive package front and centre for you from now on.’ Steve punctuates that statement with a slight thrust as he slides past him in the elevator, having finally reached his floor.

‘Steven!’ Tony is mockingly outraged, Pepper has her hands over her eyes and JARVIS has calmly requested that he have a good evening. He gives them an aborted two finger salute and retreats to the comfort of his apartment. 

Steve firstly indulges in one of his favourite things about this century, his toaster. His toaster that looks like it could take him on a one manned mission to mars. He grabs what’s left of the sourdough loaf he now routinely buys from Balthazar’s on Spring street, and cuts himself four slices (he eats the last piece slathered in butter, because he can afford to buy butter by the ton now and he's making up for lost time) places them in his fancy machine, pushes both levers down and sets it to a nice light toast. 

Honestly, nothing in the world smells better than bread toasting.

These all sit on his twenty first century pro list: Bread, fruit, butter, cheese, meat - so much meat - all the things that Steve had sparingly rationed for himself before the war (or went without, half the time) that he can now buy fresh from the markets in Union Square. Steve can eat until his belly is full. He hadn’t really known what that felt like before waking up out of the ice. Before Erskine, they’d never had any money, he and his ma, and bare essentials were hard enough to come by. After Erskine, after the serum, it took about four times what a normal man might eat to satisfy his enhanced metabolism and Steve didn’t like to take more than his fair share of rations. This, now, eating his fill, felt like the sort of contentment Steve never believed he would live to know.

Steve ducks into his room to undress, hanging his jacket, folding his t-shirt, sighing his way out of his pants and stepping into some soft trousers and cotton socks. He pulls his cellular phone from his pocket before tossing the pants into the hamper and checks for any notifications. He hears the toaster pop his sourdough in the kitchen and takes his phone with him. Nothing yet from Bucky, but there is a message from Natasha. 

He opens it expecting a debrief request about Bucky, his three languages, his volunteer paramedical activities or his cooking abilities. But no.

It’s, mission related. 

It would be too much to ask to get a solid week to marinate in Bucky Barnes, get himself good and soaked in all that adorable sweetness. Of course SHIELD has a mission for him. According to the message, details will be available to him in the meeting tomorrow morning with his strike team. But overview includes a likely time frame of two days - which means at least four - and that it’s not big enough potatoes to be an Avengers level gig.

The first thing he does is fire a message back to Nat, let her know he’s received hers and will see her tomorrow. 

Then he calls Bucky. 

He picks up after one ring.

‘Steve?’ It’s so wild the way phone’s work in the future. Bucky already knows exactly who it is.

‘Hey Buck,’ he says, habit forcing the timbre of his voice a little low, more like his stage voice. 

‘Everything okay?’ Bucky asks, ‘You’re home already?’ 

‘Yeah, I’m home, having some toast actually.’ Why Steve felt like that was necessary information for Bucky to have, he couldn’t tell you. 

‘Oh yeah? My cooking wasn’t enough for you huh?’

‘Oh no!’ Steve is quick to assure, ‘You’re cooking was killer diller, Pal,’ he hears Bucky laugh at the expression and smiles. He may or may not like to use the old timey slang for a bit of extra charm. ‘I just realised we never made any concrete plans for our next date.’

‘You need to pencil me in to your tight schedule do you Steve?’ Bucky asks, still quietly chuckling.

‘I’m a bit stiched up for the next few days, but I should be free again on the weekend,’ He sure hopes that's true, ‘What’s say I come pick you up, take you out on Sunday for a picnic?’

‘That sounds nice,’ Bucky says, Steve can hear the smile in his voice, ‘like midday?’

‘Perfect, twelve sharp. I’ll be there, Buck.’

‘I won’t see you before then?’ Bucky asks. Which isn’t unreasonable, Steve knows, given that they’re often occupying the same building.

‘I might be out of town for a few days, but I’ll be back for our date, gives me something to look forward to,’ Steve’s conscious that he’s still using his ‘keep calm and give generously’ tone, not disingenuously, more like a default setting he uses under duress.

‘You’re going away?’ Bucky says, and Steve is obviously doing a shitty job of not worrying him, ‘On a, like... is it something dangerous?’

‘I don’t think so, Buck, just a quick trip,’ and Steve doesn’t want to say this but he has to, ‘You probably won’t be able to reach me though, while I’m gone.’ It feels like a step back, after just getting started sending cute messages back and forth, to have to go four days without even a crumby emoji to touch base with.

‘Oh,’ Bucky sighs, ‘I should get used to that though, shouldn’t I.’ It’s not really a question. And he’s not wrong.

‘Still shitty though,’ Steve says. Because it is.

‘Yeah,’ Bucky agrees with a huffed breath, ‘Sucks.’

‘Can I…’ Steve doesn’t really know how to ask for this without just asking for it, ‘would you send me a picture Buck?’ God, that’s too much isn’t it. ‘I mean, I’m not shipping out or anything, I just, I might miss you.’

‘Steve, It’s Tuesday. I’ll see you on Sunday.’

‘Yeah, no you’re right, sorry.’

‘I didn’t mean no,’ Bucky says quickly, ‘Just, you don’t need an excuse to wanna look at me, Stevie. I’m happy to send you a picture.’ Steve lets out a held breath, ‘As long as I get one back from you,’ Bucky adds. Which, fuck yes, Steve will send him as many photos as he wants. 

‘Of course, yes. I can do that.’

‘Okay, just give me a few minutes, I was about to get into bed.’

‘Well that’s okay,’ Steve says, swallowing thickly at the image of Bucky crawling under the covers of that soft, warm bed.

‘What exactly kind of photo are we talking about here, Steve?’ Bucky asks with a cute snort.

‘Whatever kind of photo you want to send me,’ he replies, sinking down into his big leather couch.

‘Okay, well I’m hanging up now,’ Bucky informs him, ‘you can just wait and see how lucky you get.’

‘I’ll be over here, holding my breath.’

‘No nudes,’ Bucky says firmly, (and wow, okay. Steve received a few nude pictures from fans back in the early days, which he could appreciate from an artistic perspective, but the idea of one from Bucky? Hoo boy) ‘I don’t want to be responsible for defiling Captain America’s good, clean image.’

‘Right, sure, nudity’s off the table.’ Temporarily, he hopes.

‘Alright good, I mean, I don't want the FBI beating down my door for breaches of national security or anything,'

'Just as long as you don't sell anything to the papers.'

'Never,' Bucky says with calm assurance, 'I'd also like a message from you before you go and one when you get back, so I don’t worry.’

Steve’s heart lifts at that request. The idea of someone at home waiting for him, thinking of him, hoping for him, is overwhelming. It's something he's never had and isn't quite sure what to do with. 

‘Absolutely. You can count on me.’

They say their goodbyes and Steve drags himself off the couch to spread butter on his now cold toast and then slather it in raspberry jam (jam! The luxury! It kills him). All the while he’s watching the screen of his phone and waiting for the notification of a picture. Being able to use the phone as a camera is his favourite thing about it, and Natasha is usually the only recipient of his fascination - mostly sunsets, city scapes, particularly cute puppies. 

The picture that comes through is nothing like that.

It’s Bucky, and he _ is _ in bed. He’s sprawled out across the blankets with a gloriously bare chest - It’s a crime that Bucky has been hiding all this lean definition underneath his adorable sweaters - and dark green and navy pyjama pants that hang low on strong hip bones. A trail of dark hair leads tantalisingly down through the vee of Bucky's pelvis. He’s lying on his side with one hand resting under his head and the other on the meat of his thigh. His long hair is hanging in loose waves. The look on his face is the sweetest, softest smile Steve has ever seen. He desperately wishes he was there in the flesh, and could wrap all that sweetness into his arms and breath him in. 

It’s far from obscene, but it feels private. Not something that Bucky would routinely share with anyone. The fact that Steve gets to see him like this is a privilege. 

He figures like deserves like and so - wolfing down his toast - he heads to his own bedroom. His bed, unlike Bucky’s, is enormous. He collapses onto it and takes a moment to compose himself, arms and legs spread wide, arousal obvious under the thin fabric of his trousers. Maybe he should just take the whole bottom half of his body out of the equation. Keep it wholesome. Okay, Steve can do this, it’s just a photo, He’s been in a million photos in his time as the Captain (none with this kind of personal attachment). He pulls himself up to rest his head on his pillows, he places one arm behind his head and stretches his other arm up to hold his phone, using all the dexterity that his enhancements afford him to hold the angle and click the shutter. He takes multiples so he has options.

When he looks through the shots in his gallery, he chooses one where his smile is soft and open. He frames it to cut off just below his waist, you can see the drawstring of his pants where they sit low (he may have situated them there with a little tug) but it’s just a suggestion of intimacy, without anything revealing. There’s no trail of hair - Steve never had much body hair before the serum and whatever concoction the doc put together didn’t seem fit to change that when it built him up - just a lot of muscle and pale skin, sharp hip bones and a trim waist. Steve likes his hips, his waist, they didn’t change much after everything, and they’re a nice reminder of all the ways his body still belongs to him, it’s not easy to forget all the ways it doesn’t (a whole bunch of them will be haunting him while he’s doing whatever SHIELD will have him doing over the next few days).

He sends the photo to Bucky in a message and gets a reply right back.

**Received**: ❤️

**Received**: I rly feel like I need to put this into a secure folder somewhere. 

**Received**: but then I would have to stop looking at you

**Received**: so, maybe later

Steve smiles down at his phone. 

‘Jarvis?’ he asks, ‘Is there a way I can project that photo from Bucky onto the wall?’

‘Of course Captain Rogers,’ JARVIS replies, and Bucky’s photo appears on the wall of his bedroom, practically life sized. 

He thanks JARVIS and snaps a photo of it on the wall to send back to Bucky.

**Sent**: I’m just going to sleep with you here.

**Received**: HOLY SHIT

**Received**: How am I on the WALL

**Received**: I just have you on my shitty little phone screen. Which does NOT do you justice.

**Sent**: I’ve had enough justice for a lifetime. I like this giant Bucky by my bed. He'll help me keep my dreams sweet.

Steve laughs at his own ridiculous flirting and hopes Bucky is similarly entertained. And if not, well, Steve has always been more impressive in person. He'll plan something great for their next date. A picnic was a spur of the moment decision, but he can work with that. 

Pick him up on the bike, drive till they leave the city behind. Set up a blanket somewhere idyllic. Eat whatever Steve can find at his favourite market that will have Bucky closing his eyes against the sensation of so much flavour. Pin him to the blanket and kiss him silly. 

It will be perfect.

They text a bit more until Steve actually falls asleep with his phone in his hands. He wakes up in the morning feeling groggy but pleasantly satiated. 

And then it's time to meet with the strike team, thank god for Natasha, who chews gum loudly through the entire address and has a better handle on the op than any other agent present. It’s a rescue mission for a group of journalists in South Sudan that the government would like to be kept as black ops as possible - which means no Captain America, just Steve Rogers in the same tactical gear as the rest of the strike team (thank god) - so, as expected, he can have no radio contact with Bucky. He shoots off a message to say just that, and to let Bucky know that he’ll contact him as soon as he’s back and that the silence is as routine as ever, no need to be concerned. Bucky messages back to say good luck and Steve knows how important his job is, knows how desperately these poor people need to be brought home, but he sometimes wishes it wasn’t up to him to fix things.

Don’t go down that rabbit hole. His is who he is and it’s his job. Get it done.

South Sudan is terrifying. Not just because of the violence that's inherent, or the awfully young age of half the soldiers, but the complete lack of any of the quality of life Steve has come to expect from this new century. What is he even fighting for when there are people in the world living like this, when he is sitting pretty in a giant apartment, a high rise building with furniture that costs more than what some people have to live off in a lifetime. 

The journalists are safe, there were no casualties on their side, only two on the other side - Steve and Natasha worked as well with the two other members of the strike team as he could hope for and they stuck to the plan, stun tech first, lethal options only as a last resort - they took all evidence of their presence with them and know that the rounded up soldiers from the makeshift prison camp won’t be able to prove anything about the raid. They’re on their way back to SHIELD headquarters in the quinjet and Steve doesn’t want to debrief. He just wants to stand under hot running water for hours until his skin is sliding off his body and disappearing down the drain.

He suffers through the debrief, holding in all his questions and doubts. He wants time to work through them on his own before he brings them to any one - and he’s not even sure who he would trust to take them once he’s sorted through them - which is a whole different problem.

And finally he’s out and he can turn his phone back on. 

There are five messages from Bucky:

**Received**: You prob wont get this yet, but hey. Um, thats it rly. Hey.

**Received**: So, its Friday. I have officially survived my first week working for Stark Industries. This feels momentous.

**Received**: hy took me out fr drinks nd i may hv had 2 2 mny but tony says hihihi 

**Received**: Hello, apologies for that last message. Please never let me go drinking with Tony Stark again. I can’t feel my face. Also I hope you’re okay and I can’t wait to see you Sunday.

**Received**: Oh GOd. I think I did the charleston in front of Pepper Potts.

Steve reads them all with a mixture of fondness, happiness and dread. Because he likes that Bucky wants to be telling him this, even when he can’t reply. But he hates that he missed it. And how long will Bucky be happy to keep up a one sided conversation? This was, by measure, a fairly short, simple mission. What will happen when they’re twice, three times as long?

Steven Grant Rogers, his ma would say, don’t borrow trouble.

It’s okay to just let it be whatever it will be.

He doesn’t bother to message Bucky back, he rings him instead.

‘Steve!’ Bucky answers before Steve has even heard it ring.

‘Hey Buck.’ God, how can it be so good just to hear someone’s voice?

‘Hey, how’d it go? You okay?’

‘Yeah, yes… mostly.’ He’s not sure why he can’t hide this from Bucky, but he can’t just brush off this awful_ not right _ feeling that he has in his gut. 

‘What happened?’ Bucky asks, ‘Am I allowed to ask? Are you allowed to tell me?’

‘Um, no and no. But I really want to.’ Which is true. He feels like he needs to unpack all of this, and for some reason time with Bucky feels like exactly the right place to do that. 

‘Should we…’ he hesitates, ‘We can talk about something else, if that’s safer.’ He says it like he thinks someone might be listening to this phone call. And jesus, but that could be true. Steve wouldn’t put it past SHIELD to have his phone bugged. 

‘Yeah, I just… it’s good to hear your voice.’

‘Yours too. You sound tired though, how long have you been back?’

Steve looks down at his watch, ‘About three hours.’

‘Oh, Steve, are you even home yet?’

‘Nope, still at headquarters. Just got out of debrief.’

‘Steve, honey,’ Bucky says softly, ‘you should go home, get some rest.’ Steve’s breath hitches a little at the fondness in Bucky’s voice. 

‘I will, I just wanted to call you. I got all your messages.’

‘Oh, Christ,’ and Steve can hear the embarrassment, ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘No it’s fine, they made me laugh,’ Steve smiles into the receiver, ‘I’m sorry I missed that though, you and Pepper dancing. I never could get the hang of the Charleston.’ 

He can hear Bucky groaning, it makes him smile wider. 

‘You can come next time,’ is what he says in the end.

‘I thought you said you were never drinking with Tony Stark again?’

‘I’ll make an exception for you, Stevie.’ which shouldn’t make his heart do that stupid little flippy thing, but it does. 

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Do we have to wait?’

‘Wait for what?’

‘Wait for tomorrow? I know you have a plan, but I’m not doing anything tonight. You could come by, after a nap, order pizza, be lazy? Watch a movie?’

‘I thought you didn’t have a TV?’

‘We could watch it on the laptop. We’ll both fit on the bed if we squeeze.’

Which is how Steve finds himself on the stoop of Bucky’s building in Weeksville, then wrapped up in Bucky’s arms when he’s let in, introduced to a huge, brute of a man who looks at Steve like he might want to throw him out a window but politely disappears through a door into his own apartment and leaves the kitchen to Steve and Bucky while they set out plates for the pizza and garlic bread.

‘I got three pies, seeing as you needed to eat again after dinner last time.’ Bucky pokes at Steve’s stomach, ‘hell if I know where it all goes.’

‘Hey,’ Steve swats his hand away, ‘I’m a growing boy.’ To which Bucky looks him up and down and just lifts a perfect eyebrow suggestively. It hits Steve right in the pants. 

The pizza comes and Steve can smell the basil and tomato like a lifeline. He’s had nothing but MRE’s for the last four days.

Bucky must see something of his excitement in his expression, ‘Here,’ he says, loading steve’s plate with slices of each of the pie’s and at least half a loaf of garlic bread, ‘Eat up, Mister _ growing boy’ _Steve mostly inhales his first two slices while Bucky just watches him. ‘Better?’ Steve nods, ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

Steve thinks about that for a second then shakes his head. “No,’ he says, ‘Tonight I just want to decompress. Can we talk about it tomorrow?’

‘Anything you want.’

‘Anything huh?’

‘Yeah, yeah big guy, eat your pizza.’ 

After they’re done with dinner, and have eaten through a dozen starlight peppermints (Bucky informs him they are left over contraband from the Cooper Union cafeteria where he completed his degree), Bucky sets up his computer on the bedspread and maneuvers himself around until he has his head on Steve’s chest and a hand resting on his stomach. 

‘What are we watching?’

‘Out of Sight, great movie. Now shush, pay attention.’

Steve pinches Bucky’s hip playfully, ‘Don’t shush me.’

‘Hey,’ Bucky squirms and retaliates by elbowing Steve in the solar plexus.

‘It’s cute you think I can even feel that,’ Steve laughs, lightly grabbing Bucky’ elbow

Bucky slips out of his hold and slaps at his hand, ‘You are such a shit!’ he says, trying to hide his smile.

Steve grabs both of Bucky’s hands and flips him onto the bed, holding those hands above his head, ‘I think you already knew that, Bucky Barnes,’ he says smiling down at him. Bucky looks so beautiful spread out underneath him like this, he could just eat him up.

Bucky’s breathing is laboured and Steve can see how fast his heart is beating from the pulse in his throat. He leans down to nuzzle his nose along Bucky’s jawline. ‘Steve,’ he whispers.

‘Hmm?’ Steve humms, dragging his nose down to Bucky’s throat and breathing him in.

‘Oh, god.’

‘We don’t gotta do anything you don’t want to do,’ Steve says, looking up into Bucky’s eyes, keeping his voice low, ‘is it okay if I kiss you though?’

Bucky just nods his head.

‘You might miss the movie,' Steve teases.

Bucky responds by pushing the laptop off the bed with his foot.

‘Buck!’ Steve says, partly startled, but mostly turned on. He reaches back from Bucky to look over the bed and sees the laptop has landed on the cushions on the floor and is fine. Bucky doesn’t say anything, just pulls steve down by his collar with his now free hands.

‘Back to the kissing please,’ he says, looking up at Steve with a wicked smile.

Steve crowds back over him, ‘Well, when you ask so nicely.’ He slides one hand up under Bucky’s sweatshirt and the other tugs into his hair to angle his head just so. 

Bucky sighs into Steve’s mouth as he finally kisses him. Like he’s been waiting for it as desperately as Steve has. 

Bucky is making the most precious breathy gasps underneath him as he bites at his lips, and Steve can’t help but slide his hand further up his chest to pinch at the dark pink nipples he’s been dreaming about for days. 

‘So beautiful, Bucky,’ Steve says, pulling back to get Bucky’s sweatshirt off over his head, running a hand down that lean chest, all smooth olive skin and tightly packed strength.

‘You are the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, Steve,’ Bucky says reverently, pulling at Steve’s t-shirt to get it up and over his head in turn. 

‘I’m just what the serum made me, Buck,’ Steve says softly, leaning down to kiss him again, not wanting to acknowledge how much he feels like an imposter in his own skin sometimes.

‘The thing about the serum, Stevie,’ Bucky says, chasing Steve’s kisses between breathy words, ‘It only made you as perfect on the outside as you already were on the inside.’

Steve hides his face in Bucky’s shoulder. Almost in tears, because that’s essentially what Erskine had told him, the night before the procedure. That the serum would only enhance the qualities that Steve already possessed. To hear it from Bucky though, is something else.

He uses his body to say what he can’t find words for, running his hands along as much of Bucky as he can reach. Bucky is touching him back, fingers pressed into Steve’s chest, thumb brushing across Steve’s nipple as he licks into Steve’s mouth.

Bucky reaches his mouth up and whispers in Steve’s ear, ‘Let’s get these off you,’ as his hands trail down to Steve’s jeans, efficiently delicate fingers working his belt and fly to open them up and tug them down Steve’s thighs. ‘Wanna make you feel good.’ He sits up and crawls around to help Steve pull them all the way off his legs and toss them across the room. ‘Lets help you decompress, huh?’ he prowls over Steve, climbing into his lap and pushing him back onto the bed, sliding down and tracing his hands along Steve’s bare thighs. 

Steve is too worked up to say much, breath as laboured as Bucky's now, hungry to reach out and catch Bucky’s lips when he can, but letting Bucky manhandle him just exactly as he wants him. Everywhere that Bucky touches leaves a gorgeous warmth along his skin, lighting up along his nerve endings. When Bucky slides his underwear down as well, freeing his rock hard dick, gliding palms down Steve’s thighs, Steve feels every touch like lightning. 

Steve lifts his feet so that Bucky can remove his briefs all the way and toss them to the floor with the rest of Steve’s clothes. He looks up at Steve from where he’s kneeling at Steve’s feet, Steve is lying back, propped on his elbows and the sight of Bucky looking up at him like that, stormy grey eyes beneath dark lashes, dripping with a countenance that suggests he’s going to swallow Steve whole. He can’t tear his eyes away. 

He watches Bucky crawl back to him,hands sliding along his thighs once more, this time his gentle fingers work their way into Steve’s lap, one to run along the length of his cock - sitting up against his stomach as it is - and the other to trace down the delicate skin between his balls and his hole. Steve’s breath hitches with the softness of it, just on the right side of oversensitising him. 

Bucky gives him one last wicked smile before licking up the length of Steve’s dick and then taking it into his mouth, as far as he can, back up and then down again, slicking it up with his spit enough to stroke down the full length with his hand. The wet, hot, suction of Bucky’s mouth is so much, his hand stroking down is so good, the press of his tongue like heaven, and all the while Steve’s eyes are fixed to Bucky and his mess of wavy hair working Steve into a state of bliss and rutting himself into the bedspread like it’s driving him just as crazy.

It’s hardly any time at all before Steve is coming down Bucky’s throat and Bucky swallows it prettily, wiping at his lip with an elegant thumb and sucking it into his mouth. 

Steve grabs him, pulls him into his lap and kisses him, licking the taste of himself off Bucky’s tongue and biting at his bottom lip.

‘Feel better?’ Bucky asks, pulling back from Steve with a hand on Steve’s cheek.

‘Yeah, Buck,’ Steve says running his hands through Bucky’s wayward curls and drawing him back in for more kisses. ‘Best post mission warm down I’ve ever had.’

He gets another poke in the ribs for that, but Bucky is smiling, rocking himself slowly into Steve’s lap, kissing him again until they're lazily grinding against each other. Steve’s erection catches back up to Bucky’s and they get more frantic, more insistent. Bucky comes, head thrown back, spine arched, eyes closed and Steve follows, just at the sight of all that ecstasy on display.

They clean up in Bucky’s tiny bathroom and fall back into bed, Bucky in a fresh pair of underwear and Steve unashamedly naked. Bucky rescues his laptop from the floor, folding and storing their clothes as he does and they fall asleep wrapped together, half way through Steve couldn’t even tell you what movie.

Steve would like to add Bucky’s mouth to his ever growing list of things to love about this century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bottom bucky tag is more pre-emptive than is necessary here, stay tuned.
> 
> Also, discussion regarding safe sex will be addressed in the next chapter.
> 
> Come chat on twitter:
> 
> [@beclouise13](https://twitter.com/beclouise13)


	6. Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their weekend together continues...
> 
> and this is just pure fluff folks (with a little bit of smut)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Bucky's relationship is mostly inspired by the very awesome comic strip by Alex de Campi and Dave Acosta - Hell's Kitchen Movie club - do yourself a favour and check it out here:  
[alexdecampi.tumblr.com/post//](https://alexdecampi.tumblr.com/post/189815418124/fanfictionanthology-alexdecampi-happy)

Bucky knows, objectively, for some people, waking up next to a person you’ve only known for a week might be awkward. Like seven levels of awkward. That is _ not _ the case for Bucky. Bucky wakes up to the sweetest most beautiful man he’s ever met, making cute little snuffling noises into his pillow, and his heart is melting. He’s tempted to take a photo of all this sleep mussed, sex god nonsense that’s lying next to him but that would be creepy. And Steve doesn’t need to be exploited any further than his crazy life has already exploited him. So Bucky lets it go. And then realises just lying here, in this tiny bed, next to this giant man and staring at him with cartoon hearts in his eyes is probably equally as creepy. 

So Bucky brushes a stray lock of that luscious blond hair across Steve’s forehead and leans in to kiss him softly.

‘I’m making coffee,’ he whispers, lips hovering over Steve’s cheekbone, and gets a quiet grunt in reply. ‘I’ll be back.’

He grabs a pair of black, off brand nike (mike) leggings from his dresser and pulls them on, heading to the kitchen with quick, light steps.

Frank is hovering by the grinder, most likely waiting for some indication it’s now appropriate to grind the beans for Bucky’s french press.

‘Morning,’ Bucky says softly, smiling - but not smiling so much that it looks like some kind of, ‘hey I just blew Captain America in my Target dressed double bed and it was a magical experience’ - a more subdued, normal morning smile, is what Bucky’s going for. 

Frank’s glare is as pronounced as ever, only he lifts one, dark, broody eyebrow.

The smile may not have been as subdued as intended.

‘Steve’s still asleep,’ Bucky says, by way of explaining why he’s about to go for the grounds he keeps in the freezer for emergencies, but Frank continues to glare with his one judgy eyebrow and presses the button on the grinder.

That level of passively agressively not giving a fuck should not be so attractive. Bucky may have a slight crush on his very grumpy neighbour. 

The sound of the beans grinding has Steve up and in the kitchen in seconds, ready to take on an apocalypse style threat and deflating when he finds Frank and Bucky in the kitchen in a polite coffee stand-off situation. At the sudden increased intensity in Frank’s glare Steve looks down at his still naked state and raises his own eyebrow.

‘Excuse me, one moment please,’ Steve says, performing an elegant one-eighty and disappearing back into the living area. Frank turns his glare back to Bucky in Steve’s absence and Bucky can’t help his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. 

When Steve reappears in a pair of Bucky’s bright red briefs that are _ obscenely _ small on him, Frank looks at them both and just says, ‘No,’ turns around and walks away from the coffee. Which is totally unprecedented. And Bucky would feel much worse about it all if he wasn’t trying so hard not to laugh. 

‘I don’t think he likes me very much,’ Steve says, pouting.

Bucky reaches up to kiss the pout off his lips and gives his mostly bare ass a quick squeeze. ‘Frank doesn’t like anybody.’

‘He likes you.’

‘Everybody likes me,’ he says with a wink and Steve smiles and rolls his eyes. 

‘Yeah, okay mister congeniality. I’ll take a coffee since you’re offering.’

‘I was just about to, mind your manners.’ 

‘Uh huh,’ Steve says in that low low voice of his that drives Bucky’s nerve endings to vibrate excessively. ‘I have excellent manners, thank you very much,’ and he crowds Bucky into the benchtop where the grinder sits idly and the french press waits to be filled, ‘I always remember to say “please” and “thank you”, don’t I Buck?’

‘I don’t know, Steve,’ Bucky says, hardly above a whisper, Steve’s huge, hard body pressing him right up against the counter, ‘I’m not sure I’ve heard you use them enough to qualify that.’ 

Steve and Bucky’s bodies are lined up together against the bench, Bucky’s tiny red briefs doing almost nothing to hide Steve’s growing erection and Bucky can feel his own dick fighting within the confines of his leggings. Bucky’s back is resting against the marble and Steve has his arms on either side of him, his height giving him just enough room to lean down into Bucky’s face and rub their cheeks together.

‘How about, please will you let me suck your cock right here in the kitchen, Buck?’ he whispers into Bucky’s ear, ‘Please, Buck?’

Bucky nods erratically with an enthusiasm he can’t quite contain.

‘Thank you, Bucky,’ Steve says, deep voice and warm smile making the words curl around Bucky like a blanket. He drops to his knees, his face nuzzling into Bucky’s stomach with a low hum. Bucky uses every ounce of brain power he has to remember what he had been thinking about this exact scenario last night, while he had Steve’s dick in his mouth.

‘Steve, Stevie,’ Bucky says, using one hand to tip Steve’s chin up to his face.

‘Yeah, Buck,’ Steve says and then pulls back even further, his half lidded eyes opening a little, attention piqued, ‘you okay?’

‘Uh huh, yeah, yes I just, I meant to tell you last night,’ to which Steve stands up and rests his hands on Bucky’s hips.

‘What’s wrong.’

‘No nothing, I just,’ he feels the blush in his cheeks, ‘I meant to tell you, I had to do a full medical as part of my induction with Stark and all the paperwork came back clean.’

Steve is still looking at Bucky with that faint concern on his face. ‘Were you worried about something?’

‘Oh no, I mean, it’s been a really long time actually since I've had... anyone, so I hadn’t even thought about it, but like, I’m free of STD’s so… it’s safe to be, you know… no condoms,’ Bucky sort of hopes the floor will open up and save him from this. God, he knows safe sex is important, and it's not fair to either of them _ not _ to talk about this, but sometimes Bucky still feels like a dumb teenager in the back of some guy's pickup trying to say ‘condom’ without spontaneously combusting from embarrassment. 

'Right,' Seve says, maintaining aggressive eye contact, 'I hadn't thought about that. I guess we only used safeties to save the mess, it's not like I had to worry about getting anyone pregnant.' Steve looks so fucking earnest, Bucky is reluctant to burst his bubble.

'It's as much about preventing disease as it is babies, Stevie,' Bucky tries to keep his tone light, 'didn't they teach you guys that back then?' He looks up into eyes curious and a little bashful.

'Yeah they did. I just sort of stopped worrying about that after the serum I guess. I don't think any of that will make much difference to me now.'

Bucky is sure that's probably true. He'd also hate to be the guy who somehow gave America's golden boy his first uber STD, if such a thing exists. And he tells Steve as much. 'There's lots of nasty stuff out there nowadays, it'd be silly to take unnecessary risks.'

'You're right Buck. Thank you for being careful,' Steve is tracing little circles into Bucky's hips with his thumbs, 'And for the record, I've had a few full physicals since I defrosted,' he says, smiling sweetly, 'all clear. And there hasn't been anyone but you since then.'

Which fills Bucky with an unreasonable sense of accomplishment (Steve picked Bucky, Bucky is special!). 'Well if that's settled,' he leans back a little onto his elbows behind him, 'I guess you may now have your way with me, Captain Rogers.'

Steve raises his perfect eyebrow again, 'Thank you very much, Mister Barnes,' he says, dropping to his knees and, as if the wait has been painful, groans as he sinks his fingers into Bucky's waistband and just rips it down to his thighs. 'So pretty, Buck.' Bucky blushes at the praise and gasps as Steve swallows him down. So far that Bucky can feel his dick hit the back of Steve's throat.

'Fuck, Stevie,' Bucky dissolves into the bench top behind him, tipping his head back and allowing the pleasure of Steve's mouth to run over him.

Steve pulls off and then sucks all the way back down, both hands brushing along Bucky's thighs and then back around to grab his ass, the hum of Steve's vocal chords a thrill through Bucky's dick. Bucky looks down to Steve's messy blond head, his eyes closed, looking blissful as he works Bucky over, that look going even further than the feel of Steve's mouth itself to bring Bucky to the brink.

'Fuck yes,' Bucky breathes, biting back the moan and clenching the counter with his fingertips as Steve's hot mouth drags along his cock and his tongue laves at the slit before sliding back down. It's so much sensation, and poor Bucky hasn't had anyone but himself down there for so long, he’s panting, 'Gonna come Steve,' and his orgasm rips through him so that he's shooting down Steve's throat and arching his back until his head touches down against the marble behind him.

Steve uses his tongue to catch any stray come, running it up into the crease of Bucky's upper thigh, leaving him gasping, it's too much. 'You taste so sweet.' Steve licks his lips and moves himself slowly back up Bucky's body, drawing his leggings back up to his waist as he does, 'Thank you, Bucky.'

'You're very welcome,' Bucky says, draped languidly over the bench, 'Not sure I really need coffee though, after that.'

Steve pulls back slightly with a wounded look. 'Don't tease me, gorgeous, I was promised coffee if I used my manners,' his bottom lip is stuck out, plump and pink from all it's hard work.

'You were, you did, you're a very good boy, Steve.' Bucky can't help smirking. As if he would deny Steve anything.

'Mm hmm,' Steve leans into Bucky and kisses him with intent. 'For you, always.'

'Okay, well go and put some pants on,' Bucky's trying to hold it together and not melt into the floor in a big puddle of sappy goo, 'before Frank comes back and hits you with his murder glare.' 

Steve gives him a snappy salute and of course flexes his ass cheeks in his (still actually Bucky's) tiny underwear as he sashays off to get dressed.

Bucky shakes his head and uses this minute alone to catch his breath. It's barely nine on a Sunday morning, he hasn't had any coffee yet, but he's already come down the throat of the world's most beautiful superhero. 'Fucking Christ,' he mutters. Who would even believe this is his life? He makes a mental note to check in with his mom and Becks before the weekend's over. Probably not to tell them about this though. 

He grinds another batch of beans and adds both lots to the press with boiled water from the kettle. He'll give it five minutes to steep before pressing. Meanwhile he pulls down three mugs and rummages through the fridge for milk and bread and maybe eggs if they're lucky.

'I haven't really got much in the way of food,' he calls out through the open door.

'How bout we have a quick shower and I take you out for breakfast,' Steve says, coming back in with his jeans on and hair mussed.

'You wanna take me out?' Bucky asks, brain still kinda stuck on how low those jeans sit on Steve's hips. 

'If that's okay?' Steve asks. 

'Yeah, Steve, that's okay,' Bucky smiles fondly at him while he presses the coffee, 'Coffee first, huh.'

'Smells amazing,' Steve kisses him on the temple as he takes a cup and takes it into the living area to sit on the bed, leaning against the wall.

Bucky follows him and they both spend a few minutes drinking quietly and checking their phones. He sends off a text to Becks, his little sister likes to get regular updates of his mostly boring (until now, _ holy shit _) social life. He doesn’t mention any specifics, but does let her know he’s having breakfast with someone that might, potentially, copious amounts of luck involved, be serious about Bucky.

He gets an immediate reply along the lines of, ‘anybody decent is going to be crazy about you, you idiot,’ blah blah blah, ‘who is this guy,’ blah blah blah, ‘pics or it didn’t happen.’

Well. He can’t just send his sister photo’s of Steve Rogers in his bed, even if he is semi dressed and on his phone (looking slightly debauched and sexy as _ fuck _). And he’s not even sure about the rules around whatever it is they’re doing here. And Bucky should totally ask… but he doesn’t want to burst this bubble, not yet. So for right now he texts Becks back with some platitudes and a promise for pics later. 

He also texts his mom with more happy facts about his new job and that yes he has met Tony Stark and actually no, he’s not a horrible boss, and has been really lovely all week and everything is coming up Bucky at the moment. It’s nice to have good news for her after so long pretending he’s fine and just desperately hoping that the next grant proposal, journal article, job interview, would be the one that stuck. 

He finishes his coffee and realises that Steve has been sitting back watching him for an indistinct period of time with a happy little smile and an empty cup.

‘Hi.’

‘Hey,’ Steve says, taking Bucky’s cup and dragging himself off the bed, ‘shower?’

Bucky nods and follows him, leans against the doorway to watch Steve take the cups to the sink and wash them out, all that strength, all those muscles made for fighting, just softly rippling away while he dries the dishes with a towel and puts them back into the cabinet. 

He follows him into the tiny shower that was not made for two people, let alone two grown men (one of whom sports ridiculously broad shoulders) that spend the entire time banging their elbows on (at least clean) tiles and laugh as much as they kiss and stroke and cuddle against each other. Bucky’s not even sure they’re really clean by the time they call it a day and get out to get dressed and head out on Steve’s glorious bike.

They get to the diner and Bucky shakes his messy, still wet hair out of its rats nest from under the helmet, running his hands through the tangles and pulling it into a loose ponytail at the back of his head. He catches Steve staring with the sort of thirst generally reserved for a dying man in the sahara. He’s glad he can’t see how smug his own smile is right now. But Steve shakes it off, takes Bucky’s hand and walks them into the diner to get way more food than they need. They eat it all (mostly Steve does) and Steve suggests that they just ride straight to the tower so he can get changed, grab what JARVIS has helped him organise for the picnic and they can head back out again from there.

‘Is it more food? I feel like there’s more food involved. I’m sensing a theme around all our hangouts so far.’

‘Hush, don’t food shame me,’ Steve says, handing Bucky his helmet.

‘No shame!’ Bucky says, raising his hand in supplication. ‘You have a very healthy appetite. That’s a good thing.’ 

Steve smiles a secret smile, looking Bucky up and down before straddling the bike. And that look is going to get them both into trouble, but Bucky can’t find any fucks to give about the consequences of it. Climbing behind Steve, wrapping his hands around his waist, holding onto the crazy dichotomy of hard and soft that makes this man who he is, Bucky knows he’ll chase this into the ground and then some. No regrets. 

He keeps that feeling to himself though. 

They make it to the Tower through some pretty shitty traffic and Bucky can tell by the way Steve is ferreting him through the garage and into the elevator that he’s afraid Tony might be loitering in wait. 

‘Are you not allowed to have friends over, Stevie,’

‘I’m avoiding certain insufferable billionaires.’

‘Any particular reason?’

‘Insufferability’s not a good enough reason?’

Bucky folds his arms as he leans back into the elevator wall, ‘You’re not embarrassed to have me here though, right?’ 

‘No!’ Steve says, stopping short in his quest to push the ‘close door’ button two hundred times. ‘Not one single bit!’ The doors close behind him and he pays them no mind. ‘I just hate that face he makes, that smug, judgemental, smarmy… I just want to… never mind. We can absolutely see Tony while you’re here if you want. I’m happy to.’ He’s making that earnest face again, not that Bucky doubts him. He just isn’t sure of the rules yet. It has him a little antsy. He shakes his head though. He doesn’t at all feel like running into his boss right now.

‘What about like, outside of the tower. Are people allowed to know about me?’

‘About us being together you mean?’ Steve asks.

‘Yeah, like, should we keep it on the down-low?’

Steve looks thoughtful for a minute, standing back against the wall next to Bucky as they ride up to Steve’s floor. ‘I am who I am. I’ll date who I want to date,’ he crosses his arms, mirroring Bucky’s posture. ‘But I do think we have to worry about security.’

Bucky nods, it’s something he had thought fleetingly of while Steve was away on his ‘mission’.

‘Tony has Pepper, Thor has Jane, they seem to be managing all the risks okay.’ Steve bumps Bucky with his impressive shoulder, ‘I might have to talk to Tony after all.’ 

‘Heaven forbid.’

They get out at Steve’s floor and Bucky is quietly overawed by the apartment the elevator opens into. It’s huge, and beautifully furnished. Sparsely decorated, but Steve probably doesn’t have much of his own, and hasn’t had a lot of time to acquire anything, not since he was found and brought back into the world. Bucky makes a mental note to maybe take Steve shopping for some eclectic design pieces. 

‘I like your place,’ he says, because he does, it still, despite the sparity, has a nice, calming tone to it. 

‘It’s got none of the life that your place does, Buck.’

‘Well I guess you just haven’t lived in it long enough, Stevie.’ Bucky says, reaching out to tug on Steve’s hand and gets a smile in return. ‘I’m gonna borrow your bathroom.’ 

‘Sure, just through there,’ Steve says, pointing out the enormous bathroom (there are three shower heads in his shower. Three!) which Bucky takes his time using, straightening his hair into a much neater ponytail and spritzing some of the extremely expensive cologne just sitting out on the vanity (double sinks. DOUBLE SINKS. Bucky wants to live in Steve’s bathroom). When he emerges, Steve has changed into fresh clothes and is packing some cloth wrapped supplies into an honest to goodness picnic basket. 

He looks beautiful in a soft teal blue sweater and straight legged jeans. Bucky takes a minute just to watch him. Steve looks impossibly young like this, and really, he’s practically the same age as Bucky, with what doesn’t just seem like but actually _ is _ the weight of the world on his shoulders. Bucky can’t begin to imagine what that must be like. He remembers how drained Steve had sounded on the phone yesterday. 

‘All ready?’ Steve asks, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts as he steps out from behind the sprawling kitchen island with his basket and takes Bucky’s hand. 

‘Ready,’ Bucky replies, giving Steve’s hand a squeeze and not letting go until they climb onto the bike to ride and ride out of the city up to Bear Mountain State Park. The weather is cool enough that Bucky is snuggling into the jacket Steve wrapped around him before they set off. He keeps it on as Steve unstraps the basket from the back of his bike and unrolls a cute tartan blanket for them to spread out on. They’re laid out on the grass, under trees and overlooking the lake. They passed maybe a whole two other people on their way through the park and have the picnic grove all to themselves. 

Steve sets out a grazing platter of market fair, cured meats and stuffed olives, soft cheese, fresh fruit-

‘Thank god for Jarvis,’ Steve jokes, seeing the look of wonder on Bucky’s face, no doubt. 

It’s amazing, Bucky isn’t even hungry but he can’t pass up the giant plums, aware that he is making something of a spectacle of himself as he tries to suck up the juice and not make a mess eating them over the blanket. Steve’s ignoring the platter in favour of the show Bucky’s inadvertently putting on and is blushing root to tip at the dilation of his pupils, the shortness of his breath. 

(And Bucky maybe leans into a little when he starts to lick the juice off his sticky fingers. For that look on Steve’s face? Worth it).

After what is probably a very inappropriate make out session in the middle of a state park - the jacket has been discarded and Bucky’s shirt is rucked up to his armpits again (Steve seems unfairly taken by Bucky’s chest for all of what he’s packing in that super soldier body of his) - but they manage to get control of themselves and end up lying back, Bucky with his head resting on Steve’s stomach, stretched out perpendicular to him. His belly is full and his lips are swollen, it’s been a near perfect day and Bucky could die quite happily like this. 

‘Hey Steve?’

‘Yeah Sugar?’

Bucky thrills at another pet name but glosses over it in favour of his question, ‘Did everything go okay on your trip?’

There’s a pause before Steve answers, ‘It went fine,’ he says, unconvincingly. 

‘Are _ you _ okay?’

‘I’m… It wasn’t… what I was expecting.’

‘In what way?’

‘I just didn’t realise… Some parts of the world were so… devastated.’ 

Bucky doesn’t know where he went, or what he saw, but he knows there’s a lot of the world that might be confronting, if you’re not prepared for it.

‘I think I’ve been a bit sheltered since I woke up. Tony has so much, has given us so much. I didn’t realise that half the world is literally starving.’

Bucky doesn’t think about that much either, honestly. He’s focussed on his research, making lives better in ways that he can help control, but for people that live largely with the same resources Bucky has. That is, pretty comfortably. ‘Was it awful?’ Bucky asks. He doesn’t know what else to say.

‘Yeah Buck. It was _ so _ awful.’ Steve sighs, ‘I was thinking… maybe I could talk to Shield about diversifying my missions. Maybe take on some more humanitarian stuff.’

Bucky reaches out for Steve’s hand and squeezes it, ‘I think that would be pretty fucking awesome Steve.’ 

‘Yeah?’ Bucky can’t see his face, but he sounds pleased. 

‘Yeah.’ He gives his hand another squeeze for good measure.

They spend the rest of the afternoon just resting together like that before Steve declares it time to go, they pack up, strap their stuff to the bike, climb on and ride back to Brooklyn where Steve can drop Bucky at his apartment. 

Steve kisses him goodbye softly on the sidewalk and Bucky feels his happy, happy mood start to come down. The weekend is over. Their little bubble has burst. 

_ But _, he has a week of Stark funded research ahead of him, more and more dates with Steve to organise, his family to visit and a lot of semi nude selfies to take and send to his… boyfriend? Maybe boyfriend. 

The world is definitely coming up Bucky right now. And he’s gonna ride the fuck out of it while it does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's midnight, I'm knackered.
> 
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> 
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	7. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comforting friends... And comforting... *boyfriends*?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a lot of fluffy smut.
> 
> Not even sorry.

Steve parks the bike, scopes out the garage for anyone waiting to pounce on him, and hits the elevator with a sense of numbness. His amazing weekend is over and he’s alone again.

It’s not the worst thing. Steve can be alone;  _ has _ been alone for a long time. And his home is calm and quiet and he can breathe there. 

But it’s also calm and quiet and he can breathe, which means he can think, which means he can overthink and there his problems begin. 

Spiralling into an abyss of violent memories, of driving himself into the sudden impact of deadly ice, of a hole in the sky opening up and bringing so much devastation, Steve steps into the shower that’s probably his favourite feature in the apartment (apart from the toaster) and lets the water drown out the noise of his thoughts. He doesn’t want this today, it’s been such a good day.

Maybe that’s why. In Steve’s experience, the good doesn’t last, at least not without bad. And if all these thoughts, these shadows of doubt, these sense memories are the price to pay for the good he does, for his time with Bucky, then Steve is prepared to pay them. His breathing techniques work to centre him and food will help to distract him, but ultimately, Steve will just ride them out. It never lasts forever.

Bucky sends him a sweet goodnight message that cuts through the fog a little. Enough for him to send one back at least and get himself into bed. He’ll sleep it off. He’ll be fine in the morning.

One a.m. tells a different story. Steve wakes from a nightmare, sweating, shaking and breath in tatters. He looks to his phone, He could call Bucky, but that’s not a conversation he feels like burdening Bucky with at the moment. He could go visit Tony in the lab, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with whatever bullshit Tony might be serving him tonight (this morning?) so he opts out. He has one other friend he counts on, probably too much, but she’ll answer. 

Natasha answers on the second ring. ‘Steve.’

‘Hey,’ he says, ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s okay. Not even sleeping, Rogers.’

‘You’re not?’ he asks, halfway believing her, ‘What  _ are _ you doing?’

‘Barton and I are playing  _ Divinity _ ,’ she replies, ‘I’m kicking his ass.’

‘I don’t doubt it.’

‘Talk to me.’

‘I don’t really know… I can't…’

‘It’s okay, Steve, it doesn’t have to be about what's bothering you. Talk to me about anything.’ She says it like it should be so easy, ‘talk to me about James.’

‘Don’t you already know everything there is to know about him?’

‘I wanna hear what _you_ _think_ about him.’

‘He’s amazing,’ Steve is fully aware of the eyes Natasha is rolling at the sigh in his voice, ‘He’s too good for me.’

‘You know he’s probably saying the exact same thing about you.’

‘Yeah, but I’m right.’

‘Of course you are. You’re Captain America.’

Whatever that means, Steve doesn’t say. Because Natasha, for all that she understands, can’t understand it enough that it makes saying the words mean anything. 

‘You did good out there Steve, we did good, getting them out.’

‘All those people Nat,’ Steve can see them now, massacred by their own Country, living so harshly, ‘and nothing we could do about it.’

‘That wasn’t the mission.’

‘Maybe it should be.’

There’s nothing but silence on Nat’s side while she deliberates. Steve can barely even hear her breathing. ‘You could take it up with Fury. He might listen if you have something to actually take to him.’

And Steve can tell this is Natasha outside of her comfort zone. He appreciates what she’s not telling him. That its not something SHIELD will care about. That some lives maybe don’t matter to everyone’s cause. But there’s good that Steve could be doing there. The Avengers. They could help, even if it was just to help implement basic resources. It’s not necessarily the Avengers job to overthrow corrupt governments, but they could keep people safe somehow, surely.

‘Steve?’

‘I’m here.’

‘Talk to Pepper first. Think about what you want.’ It’s good advice. Pepper is across all of Stark Industries humanitarian efforts. Maybe it doesn’t have to start with the South Sudan, maybe it can start somewhere were they would be welcome, their help would be appreciated by the government, no red tape to cut through. 

‘I will,’ Steve says, ‘thanks Nat.’

‘Go to sleep, Cap. I gotta get back to this before Barton’s cheated so bad I can’t get it back.’ Steve laughs, he gets the principle of what she means if not the actual details. Once he’s disconnected he breathes again and it’s helped, just talking to Nat about what’s been eating at him. He has a place to start thinking.

He sleeps much better after that, waking up again at dawn and sending Bucky an obnoxious happy Monday message. He receives a reply about an hour later with no words, just the image of a nest of messy hair, on a pillow, in a bed he’s pretty familiar with now. A tongue poking out, stormy grey eyes half opened. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful and Steve is so thrilled that he gets to have this. 

He and JARVIS nut out some plans for him to go see Pepper and an appointment gets made in her calendar. He goes for a run, he goes to the gym, he catches up with Natasha and Clint for training. He visits Bruce in the labs because he hardly ever visits Bruce and he also knows that Bruce was in Calcutta for a time before he joined them in New York and wants to know about what he was doing there. 

‘Not a lot,' Bruce replies when Steve asks, looking at Steve a little inscrutably, 'Hiding mostly.’

‘Hiding?’

‘From the world, from myself. From the government,’ he says the last with a smirk, ‘Guess not as well as I thought.’

‘What’s it like there?’

‘Beautiful, sometimes. Different. I was living in the slums, trying to keep off the grid, and its noisy and its cramped and they don’t have that much access to advanced medicine, so I could sort of keep my conscience at bay, telling myself I was helping.’

‘But you weren’t?’ Steve asks, surprised. 

‘They helped me more, I think. Let me be there, didn’t ask anything of me. It was as crazy as it was peaceful, in a way.’

‘Would you like to do something like that, officially though, if you could?’

‘What, offer medical assistance?’

‘Help people who don’t have access to the resources we have.’

Bruce takes his time contemplating the question. 'I would, I think, if it was the right place, right time.' He gives Steve a half smile, 'I always meant for my research to be useful. Have medical benefits. But I think I missed so much of the point. We don't need super soldiers, not really. We need balance.'

Steve thinks he knows what Banner means. He thinks, given some time, they could come up with a plan to help find balance. Without a price. 

What he really looks forward to is seeing Bucky again. The shine definitely hasn't worn off of their trist, and there's no amount of Bucky that feels like it might be too much. Not enough, it feels like never enough. 

Between cheeky visits to Bucky in his lab, gifts to keep him smiling so sweetly - consisting of, but not limited to, hand made chocolates from Soho markets, bunches of baby's breath pilfered from Pepper's office's reception area, photographs of the cutest rescue puppy Steve has ever seen while on his morning run and one fresh, succulent orange - and stolen kisses behind Tony's back, Steve has agreed to afternoon tea with Bucky's sister Rebecca this coming weekend.

Exactly  _ why _ he agreed, has escaped Steve's brain at this moment, but he thinks it might have something to do with the taste and feel of Bucky's soft pink lips and the way he gently but purposefully pulls at Steve's own lips with his teeth.

On Wednesday evening, the elevator opens on a rumpled looking Bucky and Steve rushes to greet him at the unexpected visit.

'This is a nice surprise,' he says, taking in the comfy, straight legged black slacks and soft pink, floral button up that have Bucky looking more official than he normally looks in the lab.

'I just popped by for a cuddle if that's okay? It's been a really long day.'

'You okay?' Steve takes in the slumped shoulders and messy hair and hopes nothing bad has happened.

'Very okay. Managed to impress some board members today. Just… tired. And not looking forward to taking the subway home.' Bucky is smiling, but, though as beautiful as ever, he does look ready to fall over. 

'How about, instead of a hug, you come in, I make something for dinner and rub your feet while you complain about your awful boss and I plot new and exciting ways to make his life difficult.'

'The first bit sounds pretty damn good,' Bucky says, leaning all his weight into Steve as the door opens to him, 'I'll let you work on that last bit without me.'

Steve captures those lips in a kiss, relaxed and a smidge messy, 'Mmm, alright. I guess I can do that.' Steve says. Barely letting go of Bucky's mouth and then catching it back up again for one more deep kiss before he wraps Bucky's legs up around his waist and carries him into the lounge. 'You lie here and find something silly to watch,' Steve plonks him gently on the couch, 'I'll get started on dinner.' Bucky chases the kiss as Steve backs away from the couch, but let's him leave with the promise of grilled cheese.

He starts a cycle of manic flipping to find a movie or show to watch, something that doesn't require brain power to follow or enjoy, and settles on something about a fast talking mother and daughter, an idyllic Connecticut town and coffee (he can get behind this, the dialogue is terribly pithy) and scooches down into the comfort of Steve's lounge. 

Steve keeps one eye on him while he cooks up some pretty amazing grilled cheese sandwiches. It's too nice, having him here, sinking into the furniture and looking so perfect.

He keeps his word, once dinner is finished, and pulls Bucky's feet into his lap to start at the arches and work his way up. 

'How is it that even your feet are beautiful?' Steve asks, directed as much to the universe as to Bucky himself.

'Maintenance,' Bucky says cryptically and then looks up at Steve with a wink. Steve has no idea what it means, but he also never realised how much he could be attracted to feet before this moment, so he's prepared to cut Bucky some slack. 

He's sliding a thumb up over the ridge of Bucky's ankle, marvelling at the softness of the skin when the little moan escapes Bucky's lip bitten mouth. Steve's hand slips up under the hem of Bucky's pants to reach more and more skin to brush against. 

'You're so soft, Buck,' he says, closing his eyes at the smooth warm softness of the skin of Bucky's calf under his hand. He looks over at Bucky to find him, eyes heavy, head back against the arm of the couch, watching Steve. Steve abandons his hand from Bucky’s calf to crawl over him, holding himself over Bucky, keeping his weight off.

‘Hey,’ Bucky says softly.

‘Hey yourself,’ Steve replies. He rests his weight on one hand to lift the other to the neck of Bucky’s shirt. He slides his finger into the material and pops the top button. He can see a sliver of that gorgeous chest open up to him, and leans down to get his mouth on it. Bucky makes a sweet sigh again at the touch of Steve’s lips on his skin. He slides open another button and follows the progress with kisses. Breathing in the scent of the light sheen of sweat on Bucky’s skin, tasting it there, salty and warm. He licks the taste off his lips as he looks back up at Bucky, whose head is tipped right back now, eyes closed, lips parted. His hands come up to card through Steve’s hair, fingertips brushing and then gripping as Steve slides the remaining buttons open and exposes all of that glorious olive skin. 

He reaches back up to administer a series of soft short kisses to a bonelessly relaxed Bucky, who kisses him back, eyes still closed, gently pressing his tongue against Steve’s.

‘Is this okay, not too tired?’ Steve asks, tracing fingers up and down Bucky’s bare chest. 

‘Feels good, Steve.’

‘Can I take these off you?’ he whispers into Bucky’s mouth between kisses, hand reaching down to the fly of Bucky’s pants.

Bucky nods his head lazily, ‘Yeah, yes, ah!’ He gasps as Steve’s fingers dip under his waistband to run along the elastic of his underwear. Bucky’s hands have slid down, one to rest against Steve’s cheek, the other clutching at Steve’s sleeveless gym shirt. His hips thrust up into Steve’s touch. Steve pulls away, sitting up to get both hands on Bucky’s pants and lever them down and off his long, lean legs. Kneeling between Bucky’s legs, he traces his hands back along them, feels so good just to run his hands along them, up to the thick meat of Bucky’s thighs, thighs he can’t resist biting into. Bucky flinches at that, drawing his legs up and around Steve’s head, which, well, Steve could live the rest of his life here quite happily, trapped between Bucky’s thighs. 

He gets his mouth around the bulge in Bucky’s underwear, mouthing at the material and nipping a little at the skin underneath. Bucky is fully squirming now under Steve’s mouth and he smiles, slipping Bucky’s underwear off to get his mouth properly around his cock, already hard and ready, slides his mouth along the length of him until he can nuzzle into Bucky’s pubic bone. The smell, taste of him so pronounced here, it fills Steve’s head with a kind of blissful static.

  
  


‘Steve, Steve, Steve…’ Bucky is breathing his name like a mantra, lifting his hips in time with Steve’s sucking up and down until a particularly hard tug on his hair and a more frantic ‘Steve!’ have him pulling off, ‘wait, wait.’ Bucky gets a hand under Steve’s chin and pulls him up till they’re face to face.

Steve looks down at him, not finding any cause for concern in Bucky’s expression, not sure what might be wrong.

‘No, Stevie, I…’ Bucky lays a gently hand to Steve’s cheek, ‘I just want, can I…’ he swallows and his cheeks are flushed.

‘What do you want, Buck? You can have it, whatever you want.’

‘Want you inside me,’ he whispers, ‘is that… could we? Is that okay?’

Steve’s brain shorts out at just the idea of that, he takes a deep breath in and closes his eyes at the image. ‘Yeah, yes. We can do that,’ he says, pressing into Bucky’s mouth with a neediness he loves feeling.

Bucky pulls his head back just enough to get more words out, ‘Steve, I need, wait, Steve,’ Steve pulls back too, distantly aware that he’s as good as drunk right now, ‘I don’t have any of my stuff here, but I like to be clean,’ Steve nods along, though he isn’t really following, Bucky smiles indulgently, as if he knows exactly that Steve is lost and will say yes to anything, ‘Will you have a shower with me? Help open me up? Do you have lube, Steve?’

Steve shakes his head to clear it, going back over what Bucky is saying. He answers the easiest question first. ‘Yes, I have lube,’ then the next, because, whatever Bucky wants he can have, ‘and yes, of course, absolutely, we can have a shower,’ honestly? A naked, soaped up, soaking wet Bucky in his shower? Basically a dream come true. 

Bucky is laughing at him quietly, ‘Okay, good. I’ve been low key lusting after that shower since I walked in there the other day.’ He pushed Steve off him gently and then lifts himself off the couch, holding out his hand for Steve to take, and leads them both to the bathroom. ‘You go get the lube, I’ll get started in here.’

Steve watches a totally unselfconsciously naked Bucky step into the enormous shower Tony had put in to Steve’s bathroom (points for Tony - which is almost unprecedented) and has to work to tear his gaze away, go find the tube of slick he keeps near his bed, peel his shorts and top off and throw them into the hamper, rush back to the bathroom, finding Bucky with a soapy finger inside himself already and tries not to slip and break any tiles with his rock hard head before he can get in to join him.

‘Hey,’ Bucky says, smiling, stepping back to let Steve in and under the spray that's coming from two of the three shower heads. Steve doesn’t waste any time, has lost so much of his self control, he backs Bucky up to the wall, adjusts the shower head to run over them so they don’t get cold, lifts Bucky’s legs up around his waist and pushes him into the herringbone tiles. 

‘Hey yourself,’ he says into Bucky’s mouth, kissing longer and messier, ‘this okay?’

‘Perfect,’ Bucky replies, smiling into the kisses, pulling his wet hair off his face and tipping his head back to help Steve angle their bodies together. Steve pops the cap on his slick, squirts some onto his fingers, careful to keep them out of the path of the spray, throws the tube over onto the tiled seat that Steve had always thought was an ostentatious waste (it’s certainly coming in handy now).

Bucky wraps his hands around Steve’s shoulders, continues to kiss him as Steve reaches a slicked up finger to trace around his hole. He slips that finger gently inside to a sharp gasp of breath as Bucky takes it, already slightly stretched from his own finger. He fucks his finger slowly in and out, circling slightly and then adding his next finger, slowly, slowly, letting Bucky breath through it, reaching around until he finds that spot that has Bucky crying out.

‘Ha, yes, there, yeah,’ Bucky pants, ‘yes, yes, yes.’ 

Steve backs off and then circles back around to that spot until Bucky is incorrehent, just shaking in Steve’s arms. After he’s added another finger and stretched Bucky out, he pulls out and leans back enough to ask, ‘Here, Buck? Or can I take you to bed?’

‘Bed is good,’ Bucky says, nodding, head still leaning back against the tiles, ‘bed is fine.’

Steve lifts him and carries him out of the shower, through the bathroom, grabbing a towel which he throws down on the bed, laying Bucky down on it gently and then crawling over him, ‘I have condoms, if you want, Buck.’

Bucky looks up at him, ‘What do you want, Steve?’

‘I want to feel you, but I want you to be comfortable, so I got some just in case.’

‘You did that for me?’

‘Yeah,’ he says, ‘Want to make sure I do right by you, Buck.’

Bucky is running his hands up and down Steve’s arms, looking up at Steve like he could burst out of his skin. His smile is small, but his eyes are wide with delight. ‘You are… so…’ he pulls Steve down to him, wrapping his arms once again around Steve’s neck, ‘Thank you.’ He kisses Steve, ‘we don’t need them tonight, though, I want to feel you too.’

Steve smiles and buries his nose into Bucky’s neck, his wet hair curling against the towel beneath him, ‘Wait here, one second,’ he gets up to go grab the slick from the shower and comes back to Bucky stretching out in the bed. The sight of all those lean muscles and that toned skin so graceful, Steve takes a moment just to watch him, take stock of how lucky he is. 

‘Gorgeous,’ he says, and Bucky huffs a laugh, reaching up to pull him back onto the bed.

‘Come on, you're not finished yet,’ he says, stroking a hand along Steve’s now very interested penis, taking the tube from Steve and slicking him up, ‘want you inside me, Steve,’ and Steve doesn’t need to be asked twice (though this is, he realises, the second time he has been asked tonight), takes some time to make sure Bucky is still ready then eases himself in slowly, watching Bucky as he lets him in, pulls Steve down to kiss him. And god, the tight wet heat of him, Steve has to hold back, rein down on his control, it feels so good.

‘Jesus, fuck, Bucky,’ he says under his breath, ‘God you feel good.’

Bucky just breathes more of those beautiful little ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s’ into Steve’s throat, mouthing at his jaw, sinking his teeth in enough to make Steve dizzy. He has enough sense to thrust into Bucky at the angle he knows will hit exactly the right spot. Is rewarded when Bucky cries out, tipping his head back and matching Steve’s thrusts at a near manic pace. Steve works to hit that spot over and over while Bucky shakes, falls to pieces and suddenly arches up into Steve, gasping as he comes up and over his own chest, that gorgeous chest Steve can’t get enough of. He bends himself down to lick at the mess, following every inch of olive skin with his tongue, still thrusting erratically until it's so much he can’t hold on and he just lets go, spilling into Bucky and then collapsing on top of him.

Bucky breathes sharply as Steve lands on him and he quickly rolls off to make sure he doesn’t crush him. ‘Sorry, sorry.’

Bucky chuckles softly and grabs Steve to pull him back over, ‘no, don’t go, you’re not that heavy.’

‘I’m a fucking tank, Bucky, I don’t want to squash you.’

‘Maybe I like getting squashed by my big tank,’ Bucky says, Steve’s heart melts at the possessive. 

‘Your tank, huh?’ he says fondly, and Bucky’s panic doesn’t get a chance to take hold in his expression, ‘I like that, Buck.’

‘You do?’ Steve nods, ‘When we go see Becca, on Saturday, can I introduce you as my boyfriend?’

‘That would make me really happy, Bucky.’ He kisses him and tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear, ‘You’ll have to come and meet the rest of the team though. If we make it official.’

‘Oh god. No, don’t make me Steve. They’re terrifying.’

‘They’re really not.’ Well… ‘Except for Natasha. I’ll give you that one.’

Bucky sighs and sinks back onto the bed. ‘Okay, but not all at once? Maybe one or two at a time?’

‘That’s very fair,’ Steve agrees and starts plotting it out in his mind while Bucky gets up to use the bathroom again and throw the towel into the hamper. 

Bucky comes back and Steve wraps him up, tucks him into his chest and pulls the covers over them.

‘I’ll make you breakfast,’ Steve says into Bucky’s hair, ‘do you need to set an alarm?’

‘I need to be at work at nine at the latest.’

Steve asks JARVIS to wake them at seven. Once Bucky is asleep he creeps out to the lounge, careful to keep quiet, and picks up the clothes he left scattered about the place, picking them up and folding them over the dining chair. Bucky can wear them tomorrow (and probably get savaged by Tony) or he can borrow something of Steve’s (and probably get savaged by Tony) but at least this gives him options.

Boyfriends. He’s never had a boyfriend before. It feels… well, he can’t keep the grin off his face. He eats half a loaf of bread with cheese and cold meat and later sinks back into bed with a still sleeping Bucky. He has Bucky’s sister to meet, Avengers, _friends_, to introduce Bucky to. This is... Steve doesn’t have a yardstick for this, he’s never felt this happy in his life. He clutches at Bucky, _his_ _boyfriend_, and hopes that his luck really has turned around, that he’ll get to keep this. He wants to keep this. Wants it so much it hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might need to add an extra chapter to the count, this smut took over. But... We'll see.
> 
> As ever, give me a holler: getting your comments? hearing from you? best part of my day.
> 
> xxx


	8. Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions are made, questions are asked. Some of them are answered.

# Chapter 8

Bucky wakes to familiar music, quiet and close by his sleep addled ears. He’s in Steve’s bed, a bed so enormous they have somehow ended up miles apart from each other, blankets strewn about the place, covering legs and torsos piecemeal. It’s quite a show, Steve Rogers, chest and arms bared to the morning, one leg free of the bedding, hair mussed and long elegant eyelashes fanning out from closed eyes across his cheeks, star-fished and gently snoring. 

‘Good morning, doctor Barnes,’ JARVIS says, music fading, still somehow directed towards him and not waking Steve.

‘Good morning, Jarvis,’ Bucky replies, ‘Is it seven already?’

‘Indeed.’

'Are you playing my _ Mornings _ playlist?’

‘I thought it might be a pleasant way to wake up. I had intended to slowly increase the volume until you woke, or until I had to use a more abrasive alarm.’

Bucky rubs his eyes and drags a hand through his crazier than normal hair. He fell asleep with it wet last night and he shudders to think what it might look like right now, ‘Well it’s much nicer than waking up to my excessively vibrating phone alarm.’

‘You should do it more often,’ Steve says from behind him, startling Bucky, ‘I certainly like waking up to this better than an empty bed.’ 

Bucky can’t help the smile taking over his face, the bed head on Steve is cute enough, his yawn and the way he scoots over to pull Bucky into a hug just pushes it all over the edge. 

‘Morning, Buck,’ he says, kissing Bucky on his bare shoulder once he's firmly in Steve's arms.

‘Morning, Stevie,’ Bucky ducks his head into Steve’s neck and breathes in the scent of supersoldier to bolster his morning. ‘I might hit the shower if that’s okay.’

‘Of course.’

‘Can I borrow some shampoo?’ He desperately needs to wash this rat's nest if he intends to have it looking presentable for work. At least today will be free of stressful meetings and therefore his stiff formal shirt.

‘Use whatever you can find in there,’ Steve says, sliding through the stupidly soft sheets and standing up, gloriously naked.

And gloriously hard.

All thoughts of work and hair care have deserted him in the face of Steve and his prominent arousal.

‘You, uh, need a hand with that?’ Bucky asks, gesturing to Steve’s erection and licking his lips, only partially conscious of how suggestive that might be. 

The way Steve stalks over to him, the grin on his face, proves it's working on Steve. And lets just say, Bucky doesn’t actually make it into the shower until _ much _ later than intended. By the time he’s out (why does two minutes waiting for conditioner to soak in in the shower feel like an hour in the real world?) it's already eight thirty and Bucky is running out of time. 

‘Okay, normally I would cook you something but you’re already turning up to work in my clothes’- it’s just one of Steve’s white t-shirts and a blue knit cardigan, but Steve has yet to be able to actually let go of Bucky since he put them on -’I don’t want you to be late. How ‘bout we pop up to the company kitchen and grab something, then I can walk you up to the labs.’

‘Will it be busy?’ Bucky’s not keen on running into anyone on his way into the office, though knowing Tony, it will be an amazing spread. Shouldn’t Bucky take advantage of that while he has the opportunity?

‘It's usually just me,’ Steve says with a squeeze and so Bucky agrees to follow him there. Only to find no less than three Avengers in attendance, all of whom look up at their entrance and snap their focus directly to Bucky.

‘Steve!’ Bucky whispers, horrified, ‘This is not the company kitchen, this is the _ Avengers _ kitchen.’

‘In my defence,’ Steve whispers back, looking slightly abashed, ‘it really is usually empty.'

‘So,’ a tiny fearsome woman with a bright red bob and outrageously expensive activewear is the first to speak, ‘this is James?’

‘Ahh… Bucky… is fine.’ 

Steve gently clasps Bucky’s hand and turns them towards the group, ‘Um, so I was meant to do this a bit more formally and with less of an ambush, but guys, this is my boyfriend Bucky.’ 

The red-head moves towards him, gliding effortlessly across the hard wood floors, and Bucky manages to talk his nerves down from their ledge (he is about thirty percent successful) ‘Nice to meet you.’ He holds his hand out and the woman takes it immediately. Not a forceful handshake, but firm, decisive and short lived. 

‘The pleasure is mine, I promise,’ her voice is warm and husky and Bucky has the feeling it would be easy to get lost in, ‘Natasha is fine.’ He recognises the gentle teasing in her words and hangs onto it. 

‘Bruce Banner,’ the man cupping a giant mug of something that smells earthy and calming says as he ambles over with an offered hand, ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’ Bucky looks over at Steve who just shrugs at him, ‘Oh, from Tony actually,’ Bruce clarifies and, yeah, that makes total sense. Bucky would’ve recognised Doctor Banner from his reputation alone, both as The Hulk, and as a renowned physicist. He and Tony must be close.

The last man is sitting hunched over a large travel mug at the twelve seater table, eyes half closed and wince frozen in place. ‘Clint,’ he says, not looking up but waving lethargically, ‘I would get up, but the caffeine has yet to take effect.’

Bucky waves back and lets Steve guide him further into the room and towards the buffet of breakfast foods that have unconsciously had Bucky’s tummy rumbling since they walked in. Steve has had a hold on one of his hands through the entire introduction process but lets go now so that Bucky can plate himself a decent breakfast.

Steve spots something taped to one of the cabinets and rips it down before Bucky can see more than a headline: _ Bravo, Volunteer Paramedics make it Possible. _ But that’s enough to have his nerves back on high alert. The article is a few months old now, but Bucky knows it. Knows his mom also has a copy taped to the fridge because it mentions Bucky by name and has an embarrassing photo of him holding the hand of a young boy on a gurney amongst the rubble of the attack on New York. 

‘Oh my _ god, _what was that?’

'Nothing to worry about, Buck.'

'Steve was that my picture?'

'Just an ah… reminder, thing, we had pinned up. Not important.'

'Steve,' Bucky looks at a blushing Steve who is refusing to meet his eye, looks over at the Avengers at the table who are just watching them - even Clint is looking up from his coffee - like all they need is popcorn, and then back at Steve. 'You can't lie for shit.' 

Clint snorts into his cup, Natasha smiles and Bruce is watching them fondly. Steve sighs and resigns himself to fess up. 'Sorry, Buck. For the record I had nothing to do with this.'

'What? It's a cute photo!' Natasha laughs as Steve shoots a death glare her way. Bucky is just reeling from the shock of finding out there's an article about his volunteer paramedic team and the numbers they make up in attendance to emergency situations across Brooklyn (and, in the case of Alien invasion, the greater Manhattan area) taped up in the Avengers communal kitchen space. 

'Thank you?' Bucky says unconvincingly. Because the idea that Black Widow had researched him, found that article, _ printed it _ , and then _ taped it to the fucking cabinet _, has him all agog. Like it's surreal. And ten to one it's their way of ribbing Steve, but also, these are the Avengers. What even is his life right now. 

'It's a lovely article, if that helps at all,' Bruce adds in his soft, friendly voice. And it does actually.

'I agree it's a cute photo, I didn't actually read the article,' Clint mumbles around his mug. 'Sorry dude.'

'That's… it's… totally fine.'

'It's a great article, Buck,' Steve is looking at him with a giant goofy grin and Bucky isn't certain, but he thinks his heart may have given out. 

'Lets eat, huh!' Bucky blurts, grabbing a plate and spooning bacon and eggs, fruit and a Danish and brushing past Steve to sit across from Bruce, which seems like his safest option at the moment. 

Steve sits down next to him with a plate so full it's structurally unsound, and pats a reassuring hand on his knee. 'I am sorry, I didn't really think this through.'

'That doesn't fill me with confidence for your tactical prowess.'

'Hush,' Steve elbows him lightly, but he's smiling, and Bucky can't not smile back at him - it's physically impossible - and all in all its not a horrible way to start a day. 

Until Tony walks in. And double takes at Bucky sitting, eating at his Kitchen table.

'What the fuck are you doing in my Kitchen Boy Wonder?' 

Bucky almost chokes on a grape he sucks in a little too fast at Tony's outburst.

'Hey!' Steve objects but doesn't get much further before Tony barrels on.

'Oh my God is that an old man cardigan? Is that Steve's cardigan? Did you two have a _ sleepover _!'

'Anthony Edward Stark, that is NONE of your business.' Steve says at the same time as Bucky answers,

'Yes.'

'Is it official? Are we meeting the family? Why wasn't I invited? Why am I the last person here?'

'We actually didn't realise there would be anybody here.' Bucky says, trying to fold in on himself and perhaps disappear into the chair.

'I assumed I would be just as entitled as the rest of the team to eat in this Kitchen,' Steve says in his Captain America voice, 'as would my guests.' He's doing the eyebrow thing and Bucky is trying really hard not to get turned on by that. This is _ not _ the time. 

'Calm your tits Cap, you can bring whoever you want in here.' Which, thanks Tony, what a lovely sentiment. 'You calm down too, kiddo, I meant theoretically. I've got your back.' 

Steve rolls his eyes and Tony rolls his eyes and they take part in some kind of creepy stare off and then agree by mutual mind message to break it off and pretend like nothing is happening. 

'What is happening right now?' Clint asks, ping-ponging from Tony to Steve, engrossed.

'Mommy and Daddy are fighting over the new kid,' Natasha says quietly, though still gets a glare from everyone. 

'So this has been lovely but I really have to get to work,' Bucky says as he gets up from his seat.

'Wait!' Steve calls, running around Bucky to grab a take out container from the counter and dump Bucky's uneaten breakfast into it, 'At least take this with you.’

Tony, not to be outdone, starts up an espresso on the fancy machine in the corner, ‘Coffee is what you need Kiddo, let me get you a double shot, keep you going.’

‘I’ll throw in some extra danishes, for later,’ Steve grabs two of the blueberry and tosses them into the container, which is now in danger of not closing.

‘Do you want caramel in this? You have Caramel right?’ Tony asks and Bucky just nods because it is absolutely insane that Iron Man remembers how Bucky takes his coffee.

‘Oh my god, they really are,’ Clint says to Natasha, while Bruce shakes his head at all of them and goes back to his tablet, to whatever important research he’s probably doing on there.

Bucky watches the whole scene and tries to get his heart back into his chest. 

‘I really do have to get to work,’ he says, to the room at large, not sure who it might be safe to address and wanting to escape as much as he wants to watch his boss and his boyfriend try and fight over who can take care of him better. ‘But thank you.’ He takes the container from Steve as Tony sidles over, putting the lid on the Avengers keep cup he’s made Bucky’s coffee in. 

‘I’ll walk you down, kid, lets go.’

‘Wait-’ Steve slips a gentle hand around Bucky’s wrist before he can get too far away. ‘Have a nice day, Buck,’ he says and presses a kiss to Bucky’s lips. Which he probably intends to keep quick and chaste, but lingers just that bit too long. Long enough for Bucky to get a taste of Steve and dive a bit deeper to chase it, dig his fingers into the front of Steve’s shirt and pull him closer, step up onto his tiptoes to change the angle and really grip his bottom lip. 

It’s the cough from Tony that jars Bucky back to reality and he breaks off instantly, blushing and desperately keeping a check on his breathing. He will not pant, he can keep it together.

‘Okay, lets go,’ he says, proud of the control he has over his voice. Steve is still standing there with his eyes half open. 

‘I think you broke him,’ Tony says as he nudges Bucky to get moving, ‘Catch you round Captain _ whipped _.’

Bucky waves and Steve just sort of nods his head, watching him go, remembering to wave at the last second before they step out of view of the kitchen.

‘Sharing clothes now? Are you like going steady, what is this?’ Tony asks as they let the elevator take them to the labs.

‘Yes and yes.’ Bucky replies, taking a sip of coffee as a distraction and then closing his eyes at the hit of sweet caffeine. His body had been waiting for that all morning. There’s only so long a beautiful blonde beefcake can distract from the pull of coffee (Bucky will enjoy employing all the testing necessary to quantify that number).

‘You don’t want to elaborate? You aren't going to gush about tapping that ass?’

‘No.’

‘America’s ass. You’re not going to gloat?’

‘No.’

‘Just a little. Is it as fine in real life as it appears on TV.’

‘No comment.’

‘Is he the big spoon or the little spoon?’

‘Jarvis?’

‘Yes Doctor Barnes?’

‘Can you remind Tony of Stark Industries sexual harassment policy?’

‘Certainly Doctor Barnes, Sir, in section four, three, three of the company's-’

‘Enough! Thank you Jay. I’m aware. I’m aware. Point made,’ he rolls his eyes again, this time directly at Bucky (it's amazing they don’t actually spin around in his head, the force of that eye roll) ‘It was a test. I was testing you. You passed by the way.’

‘Thanks,’ Bucky says, refraining from returning the eye roll, Tony is still his boss.

‘Great. We’ll just get back to talking about all the boring crap we had to sit through in that meeting yesterday.’

‘Tony you weren’t at the meeting.’

‘Jarvis took notes.’

‘Okay, well good, because I have like, four hundred questions,’ Bucky starts, and though Tony looks at him like he wants to push him down an empty elevator shaft, he answers all of them as they make their way to the labs and get started on the day. All talk of Steve’s ass is forgotten, at least for now. 

He gets a text from Steve an hour later with just a string of kiss emoji’s and he sends back a quick selfie with Dum-E and one of the blueberry danishes that Steve had packed for him, along with a text highlighting all the wonderful ways he will get Steve back for breakfast when he meets Becca on the weekend. 

**Received**: Boy it would be a real shame if a national emergency broke out right before we were supposed to catch up.

**Sent**: suspicious, is what it would be.

**Sent**: And I have first hand knowledge of how crap a lier you are, so I do not recommend 😑

**Received**: Noted. And let me apologise again for this morning. I honestly did not mean to ambush you like that.

**Sent**: youre lucky your cute

**Received** : I am **very** lucky. For **lots** of reasons.

Bucky smiles indulgently at the phone as he reads until a rolled up wad of paper hits him in the face from across the room. 

'Put it back in your pants and get to work.'

'Oh my _ god _ .' Bucky throws the projectile back at Tony and puts his phone away. A Boy can't even _ text _ peacefully. The _ oppression _. 

  
  
  


The weekend comes out of nowhere and Bucky wakes up face down in paperwork, ink pressed into his cheek from the statistical analysis he’d printed off to go through at home. He is crazy busy now that they have plans in place for where to start implementing his research into the existing biomechanical projects at Stark. He hasn't seen Steve since breakfast on Thursday and is a little disappointed that they won’t get much time to themselves until after their catch up with Becks in the afternoon, who has been fishing for information on this mystery boyfriend all week and is extremely nonplussed with Bucky’s evasion techniques. 

  
  


He makes himself get up and pull on leggings and a tank, slips into runners and grabs a drink straight out of the tap in the kitchen.

‘James,’ Frank says, scaring the crap out of him from a seat at the small three piece dining set against the wall in the galley kitchen.

‘Frank! Good morning.’

Frank gives him a little nod, ‘Run?’

‘Yeah, five miles. Haven’t been out much lately, so I’ll take it easy today.’

Frank gives him a salute with his coffee and Bucky swears he can see the corners of Frank’s mouth tick up (he’ll take it). ‘I’ll have some coffee ready for you when you get back.’

It’s the longest sentence Frank has ever spoken to him. Bucky doesn’t want to break the spell, so he smiles and says ‘Thank you, sounds great,’ as nonchalantly as possible and heads back through his apartment and out of the building. He runs until his lungs burn, his legs ache and he feels the good kind of hurt that lets you know you worked hard (even if his time wasn’t great).

By the time he’s lugged his exhausted body up the stairs to his door it’s ten am. Still hours before he’s due to meet Steve (and shower and maybe shave… definitely get nice and clean for _ after _ their catch up with Becks). Only Steve is sitting on the floor by his front door with a handful of very bright, very beautiful flowers tied up with twine.

‘Bucky!’ Steve jumps up at the sight of him coming up the stairs and Bucky is powerless to the pull of him. 

'You're so early!' he says, flustered, even as he lets himself get hauled in for a kiss.

'Sorry, I just couldn't wait,’ he looks down at his watch, ‘Another four hours to see you.’

‘You big sap,’ Bucky says, grinning like an idiot and totally charmed by his hopeless, perfect boyfriend (BOYFRIEND, his brain still squeals every time), ‘I guess I can think of a few ways we can spend four hours.’

Steve grins that grin that means only good things for Bucky and refuses to let go of him as he unlocks the door to let them in. 

They make it as far as the bed, Steve just about throwing Bucky down on it before Bucky can come up for air long enough to complain about how bad he must smell, fresh off a thirty-something minute run. 

‘You smell fucking _ amazing _,’ Steve argues and Bucky can’t help but crinkle his nose up at that.

‘I do not, I’m gross.’

Steve forcibly shakes his head in disagreement, ‘I love how you smell, sugar,’ and just buries his face in Bucky’s armpit.

‘Oh my god, your disgusting,’ Bucky laughs, secretly in love with how savage that is. 

Steve simply voices his opinion by mouthing his way down Bucky’s body, ripping his tank out of the way (Bucky hears actual seams ripping, hopefully in a way that doesn’t entirely ruin the top) and sucking bruises into every inch of skin he makes contact with. Bucky, for his part, just allows Steve to take him to pieces, swallow him whole and lead him into that blissful fugue state that has his body vibrating through the pleasure. 

He’s so slick with sweat that even after he’s made Bucky come, Steve nuzzles and licks into his groin, looks up at Bucky at asks, ‘Can I fuck your thighs, Bucky?' before burrowing back into his lap 'god these thighs are so _ fucking _ gorgeous, it's criminal.’ How could Bucky refuse that? He nods erratically and helps pull Steve up as he rolls over onto his stomach. Steve undresses, wraps himself around Bucky and slides into the space between his legs, lazy and slow as he kisses Bucky and then faster as they get messier and messier until he’s brutal in his intensity, thrusting into Bucky’s body and crying out when he comes, all over them both _ and _ the sheets (which Bucky was going to wash anyway - because he does _ not _ love the smell of his own sweat).

‘We are,’ Bucky says between Steve’s still filthy kisses, ‘definitely having a shower now, Captain Rogers.’

‘I’ll allow it,’ Steve says with a smile, pulling himself up and off Bucky and helping him hobble to the bathroom on crampy legs. 

Staring into his crappy bathroom is a little disheartening. ‘My shitty shower is so sad compared to your shower, Stevie,’ Bucky complains, pouting, as Steve gets the water running for him.

‘Poor baby,’ Steve teases, no sympathy at all, leaning in for another kiss, ‘I’m gonna go make you a coffee while you get clean.’

'Thank you, sounds great,' he says, getting under the spray and then cursing as he realises he said exactly the same to Frank on his way out because he was also making him a coffee. Oops.

Bucky takes his time and then slinks into the kitchen later in fresh dark jeans and a grey sweater to find Steve and Frank side by side, seemingly mid lesson on how to prepare coffee in the French press. He wants to take a photo it's so fucking cute. Steve in Bucky's gym shorts and college sweater, Frank dressed like he's about to head into a black ops mission. Both of them taking the tutorial very seriously. 

They don't notice Bucky until the press is down and the coffee is poured, Frank excusing himself in less than three words before disappearing into his apartment. Steve looks immensely proud of himself.

'I made coffee _ and _ I made a friend!' 

'Look at you, winning over scary neighbours and learning about coffee, all in a morning's work.' Bucky shoos him out to have a shower and get dressed. He rescues his flowers from the floor and puts them into a tall glass (he'll have to look into purchasing a vase, now that he actually has an income). Soon they've had coffee and toast and apples and more kissing and they are on their way to Bay Ridge to meet Becca. 

Cocoa Grinder is Becks and Bucky's favourite catch up spot, right around the corner from their parents place, where Becca is still living while she interns at L magazine and sells homemade jewellery on _ etsy _. And they find her already seated at one of the tables inside, head buried in her phone, dark brown wavy hair hanging like a curtain around her.

‘Hey hey, Becks, we’re here,’ Bucky says, startling her out of her machinations. She wastes no time honing into the giant slice of American Pie that has walked in, hand in hand with her brother.

Becks, being the fucking star she is, fixes a smile, straightens her shoulders and holds a hand out for Steve to shake.

'You must be Bucky's Steve.'

And Steve, already nervous, already out if his comfort zone in a crowded cafe, already having signed two autographs for fans on his way in, melts under the polite charm of one Rebecca Barnes. 

'You must be Becca,' Steve says, taking her hand and shaking it probably a touch too enthusiastically. Becca makes no show of it though, only turns to Bucky for a quick hug and whispers 'what the _ fuck _!' in his ear. Which he thinks Steve can probably hear (and reminds himself to tell Becks about later).

‘Okay three things,’ Becca says as they sit down, ‘and you should listen carefully and answer honestly because you’re gonna want to be on my good side at all times.’

Steve nods sagely, prepared to take Bucky’s little sister very seriously.

‘Mets or Yankees?:

‘Dodgers, tragically, I’d prefer not to talk about it, I’m still in denial.’ Steve looks about as devastated as Bucky'd seen him, so he’s inclined to believe it’s true, and so is Becca by the look on her face.

'Burger's or steak.'

'I can never go past steak,' Steve says wistfully, 'we could never afford meat growing up. And in the war we lived off some pretty dubious food stuffs.'

‘Okay,' she says, cataloguing these answers away for future reference, 'And how much danger might you _ actually _ be putting my brother in by dating him?’

‘Becks, no!’ Bucky interjects, they are not here for the spanish inquisition, this is supposed to be a friendly getting to know you afternoon tea.

‘Umm,’ Steve swallows, ‘No, that’s a valid question, Buck,’ which, Bucky’s not sure that it is, but, ultimately, it’s not his decision to make. ‘I’ve looked into precedents set with other agents at SHIELD, and Bucky isn’t in the media yet, might not be for a while, depending on how things go,’ he gives Bucky a watery smile, he’s _ nervous _, ‘and there are actually some things I need to go through with Buck, eventually, some ah, paperwork and then…’

‘And then?’ Becca asks.

‘And ah… Tony had some ideas about implementing security into Bucky’s phone, using JARVIS and perhaps a panic button.’

'This is not filling me with confidence,' Becca says. Bucky has to agree, and realises he hasn't thought much about his own safety in light of this relationship (he's usually focused on Steve's'). 

'To be honest, the likelihood of something terrible happening as a direct result of Bucky's relationship with me, is lower than the likelihood of his having a car accident, being the victim of a random act of violence, contracting a fatal illness, being severly injured in a household accident, choking… I mean, I could go on.'

'Please don't.' Becca looks a little peaked, Steve is looking a little smug and Bucky is trying not to imagine all the ways he might die on the way home. He keeps forgetting what a supreme shit Steve can be. But his point is a good one. Becca sits back with her arms crossed. 'Okay. Well… I'm glad you've at least thought about this.'

Steve is looking particularly smug, 'Of course it'll be much easier to keep him safe once he moves in.'

When he what now? 

Becca actually spit takes her tea.

Steve is suddenly red as a beet and his face is falling. 'I said that out loud, didn't I. Fuck.' Bucky and Becca are stunned silent. 'I meant_ if. _ Or _ when _ but much later, very _ later _ down the track. If you want. When you want. Whatever you want. It's just, best case scenario. For me, not for you necessarily, I can be very hard to live with. _ Fuck _'

Bucky can't help it, he bursts out laughing. Not at Steve and his mortification (he's not a monster), but it's gorgeous that having _ Bucky _ move in with him is _ Steve's _ best case scenario, his lost for words, anxious, fluster isn't funny so much as charming, and in front of Becca, their first meeting. Poor Steve. Bucky's gotten him back for the Avengers breakfast and then some.

'Oh honey, no. Don't look so terrified. How could I be upset that you're imagining your future with me in it?'

Steve, taking a deep breath, just says with relief. 'Oh thank fuck.'

'I mean, we're not there yet. But it's a nice idea.'

Steve is honest to god holding his chest. Like he's having heart palpitations. 'Okay, no, yes, that's… a nice idea. Yes. I think so too.'

'You guys are made for each other. Seriously,' Becca's chuckling at them, wiping spilt tea from the table with a napkin. 'This is cute. I can get behind this.'

'Gee thanks, Becks.' Bucky squeezes her knee right at the exact point that she hates the most.

'Fuck off!' she cries, slapping him in the arm, twice.

Steve is watching them, much happier now that the focus is off him and he can enjoy the stuffed french toast he ordered. And Bucky's cookie too. Which is fine, he'll make Steve order more (they are excellent cookies). 

'Becks, you just swore in front of Captain america.'

'He swore first! Twice, I think!' 

'Not me,' Steve says with the most innocent expression Bucky's ever seen him pull. 'Bad language is against my strict moral code, Rebecca.'

'For shame, Becks.'

'Shut up, both of you. I take it back, if you're going to gang up on me, you're terrible together.'

'Aw, don't be like that. You said we were cute.' Bucky says, sipping his blend of the day tea like the hipster Becca always accuses him of being. 

The afternoon descends into teasing and embarrassing family anecdotes and they leave sated and much relieved. Becca's going to let Bucky tell his Ma about Steve in his own time, and she does seem genuinely happy for him. 

Steve pulls him in close as they walk to the bike for the ride home. 'Sorry about the shit show at the start there.'

'It's okay Stevie. You were nervous, I get it.'

'I did mean it though, about the security stuff. And we do need to talk to Tony about it all. Maybe next week we could steal some of his time?'

'I'll ask him,' Bucky says, climbing onto the bike behind Steve. 

  
As they ride through the streets of Bay Ridge, all the nostalgia of where Bucky grew up, his brain ticks over Steve wanting him to move in one day. Bucky knows what it's like in the beginning of a new relationship, how two people can get carried away with grand plans in the overwhelming romance of it, and that fades, pragmatism settles in, reality gets the better of you. But something feels different about him and Steve. Like it's not dreaming, it's _ planning _ . And that's probably so _ so _ dangerous for Bucky's poor heart. But the bit of him that's thinking it's not, that's thinking it's perfect, is growing every day. It seems like it is for Steve too. So Bucky holds tight to Steve and lets himself make plans to never let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did end up adding another chapter. I feel like I'm not quite finished with this yet...
> 
> I'm living off your comments at the moment, they feed my poor soul ❤️


	9. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where they get some media attention, and Steve isn't a fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the last chapter friends, 
> 
> Be well, have some fluff! Don't be sad, I've got lots of ideas up my sleeves xxx

It’s no secret now, to the rest of the team, how smitten Steve is with Bucky. Where once, a very flattering article, poorly photocopied and attached to the kitchen cabinets, was all the evidence of their knowledge; a full fledged assault on his relationship is now underway.

Tony has procured photos of the both of them together off Steve’s phone having earlier stolen it from the breakfast table. Those photos have been edited somehow to include one, or some combination of the following: cartoon birds sitting atop Steve’s shoulders, pink hearts circling his head, red hearts covering his eyes, and one overly large red heart beating out of his chest. Full credit to the artist, they look a very good quality, and Steve would no doubt find it hilarious (does in fact find it quite funny regardless) if it wasn’t himself they were teasing. 

He takes Bucky back to the kitchen for breakfast again a week later and the images are such a hit, he asks Tony for copies. Tony, who Steve is sure is just as, if not somehow_ more _ infatuated with Bucky than Steve seems to be, jumps to acquiesce. 

The selfie of Steve and Bucky at the park on their first picnic, with Steve's cartoon heart eyes - that almost didn't need to be edited - becomes Bucky's wallpaper. Steve insists on Natasha helping him do the same to his own phone with a picture of Bucky, but it continuously finds its way back to a lovesick photo of Steve with a circle of pink hearts over his head. He doesn't know how she does it, but she is the worst. 

And so life goes for a little while, Bucky spends one or two nights a week with Steve after work, nights where they order in, or attempt to learn to cook together, or abandon food entirely to kiss and touch and fuck anywhere and everwhere in the apartment that they can manage. Steve can always duck back to the kitchen for food once Bucky has collapsed into the total sleep of the dead that he somehow manages to reach at top speed (being a grad student, he swears, had driven him to perfect the art).

On the weekends, Steve takes Bucky to his favourite market and plies him with as much decadence as he is allowed. He takes him for long, winding rides along the coast on the bike, just to feel Bucky holding him, pressed against him while they soar past all the natural beauty of the ocean in a fall slowly cooling into winter. He relishes this time, because some intrinsic aspect of Steve’s countenance is poised for tragedy, even though his overly logical brain is telling him that he shouldn't be. If he can chase down megalomanical, serum enhanced nazi dictators and survive decades of being frozen in purgatory, he can find some way for he and Bucky to keep this happy equilibrium they’ve reached.

In the meantime, Steve finally meets with Pepper and gets his discussions of humanitarian aid options underway.

'The thing is Steve, it's hard to distinguish between organisations out there. So much research goes into where we can best spend our money and in the end, money's not really what they need.'

'Well, what do they need Ms Potts?'

'They need time, Steve. Any organisation that's worth affiliating with is going to be long term, it's going to be involved, it's going to need long term commitments and organisation and structure. That's not something the Avengers are capable of offering right now '

Steve understands what Pepper means by that, because they are needed at a moment's notice, because they operate out of a secure and fully equipped location. It would be detrimental to their cause to commit to long term projects that would need them elsewhere. 

But surely some time and effort could go into finding a way to make that work. 

'Pepper,' Steve is aware that _ buttering up _ might be a strategic move in this case, 'I have a lot of free time on my hands between projects, and I'm often researching the world and how it functions in this new century. Do you think I could be of some assistance simply focussing my efforts on the humanitarian campaigns that Stark Industries is looking into?'

If he could take Pepper's research and jump off from there, look into the sort of campaigns that required assistance, and how and when it could be offered, maybe a solution could be found.

Pepper is looking at him with a shrewdness she's never directed at him before. 'I think, I think that would be an excellent use of your time, Captain '

Steve smiles, 'If nothing else, maybe some coordination of projects and resources could be useful?'

Pepper smiles in return, 'I hear you do have excellent strategic capabilities, Captain Rogers. It would be a blessing to have you use them in our humanitarian department.'

It's good news. It's great news actually. This will give Steve a chance to really understand what needs to be done out there. 

'Thank you so much, Pepper, for hearing me out and letting me come to the table.'

'It's a pleasure, Steve, honestly. I think, if you really want to, I'm sure you can do great things with this.'

So Steve has a pep in his step when he reaches the labs to check in on Bucky and maybe steal a kiss before heading back to his apartment armed with all the information he needs to get started in his research. 

Only Bucky isn’t in the labs.

He isn’t at his desk.

He isn’t in the lunchroom, or in-tower cafe, or the Avengers Kitchen (where he has lately taken to stealing Tony’s pastries and making his coveted caramel lattes amid a miriad of pictures of a smitten cartoon Steve).

‘Jarvis?’

‘Yes Captain Rogers?’

‘Is Bucky around somewhere?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t have any information pertaining to doctor Barnes whereabouts’

‘What do you mean? He’s not in the tower?’

‘Not that I’m aware of, Captain.’

‘How can you not be aware of it Jarvis? If he was here you’d be aware?’

‘Most likely.’ Oh Jesus, if he couldn’t get a straight answer from a computer, what fucking chance is there.

Bucky is supposed to have the software in his phone that will allow JARVIS to keep track of him. So if JARVIS can’t tell where even his phone is, it must have been compromised. Fuck fuck fuck, maybe he’s in trouble.

‘Is Tony in somewhere?’

‘Mister Stark is not currently present in the tower either, Captain.’

Where the fuck are they? 

‘I can tell you that both Mister Stark and Doctor Barnes were looking through these files at the last of my knowledge of them.’ JARVIS pings his cell with something and Steve opens it hungrily. And baulks. It’s a picture, of he and Bucky, several pictures actually, pretty compromising, from their last ride out along the coast. They had stopped at that cove and taken a walk to get pictures, to stretch their legs, breathe in the sea air and generally just get their hands and mouths on each other for a minute before jumping back on and heading off for food. 

And this is in a magazine? Or online somehow? 

‘Jarvis can you send me everything relating to these pictures that’s surfaced on the internet?’

Steve keeps his voice calm. It won't do anyone any good for him to lose it over he doesn’t even know what yet. JARVIS sends more data through to him and he pulls it all up as best he can on the handheld device. The photos are grainy but they are absolutely recognisable. Bucky has been named, in fact. A stock photo of him in full graduation regalia has been attached to the article and its not damning, it’s not making any judgements about their relationship, just observing it, as far as Steve can tell, and announcing it to the world as if it's anybody's business but their own. 

But the comments.

There’s so much shit, so much hateful rhetoric. It’s ridiculous that people take time out of their lives to write this, attach it to an article that has nothing to do with them. That won’t impact their lives in any way. And Steve’s no stranger to this. He’s been a symbol, a dancing monkey, a public figure, fodder for people's misplaced ardour and amusement. He’s lived through this before, the mockery. He can live through it now, there are worse things, he’s lived through those too. But he didn't want this for Bucky.

Bucky is so wholly good. So dedicated to his work, to helping people, volunteering his time to offer free emergency care to citizens that the government has largely ignored, neglected. Always so kind, and calm, and ready to support Steve in what he needs. So soft and unburdened by the kind of horror that Steve has known. He wanted Bucky to be able to keep that softness. Let that light shine in him. 

Which is not Steve’s call to make, he knows. Bucky was aware of what he was getting himself into. Had argued that to Steve on enough separate occasions that he’s accepted it (for the most part) and let it go. 

Only, if Bucky was so okay with it, where is he?

Steve uses his brain and sends Bucky an actual message to his phone. Which he should’ve done in the first place. Not panicked. Not assumed the worst (what if it _ is _the worst?). He gets one back fairly promptly.

**Received: **I’m hiding. 

**Received: **in the stairwell

**Received: **dont tell JARVIS, he doesn’t know about this blind spot

**Received:** also I temporarily deactivated his surveillance tech. Dont tell him that either. 

Dont tell Tony

Steve’s heart dislodged itself from his throat. Left a painful lump there in its wake though. Bucky was hiding? From Tony? And JARVIS? And from Steve, presumably. 

**Sent: **Are you okay?

**Received: **I’m okay. processing. need a minute.

**Received: **love you though

Steve reads the text and sits down. On the ground. Because he’s not anywhere that there might be a chair and his legs have given out on him. 

**Received: **fuck. I just put that in a fucking text.

**Sent: **Buck, it’s ok

Steve types back as fast as he can, not wanting Bucky to have any more things he needs to be anxious about today. This thing is not even a bad thing - maybe putting it in a text is not the way Bucky had meant to say I love you, but Steve remembers every text Bucky has sent him from the beginning to the letter, and they have always been as adorably awkward as this. 

**Sent:** I love you so much, it’s crazy.

**Sent: **I've been in love with you from the very beginning.

**Received:** OMG Steve are you trying to kill me rn, you can’t put that in a text. where are you?

Steve laughs at the screen and the belligerent huff he imagines Bucky's giving his own screen at Steve’s foolishness. 

**Sent:** You know the first words you said to me were ‘oh fuck’ - it just doesn’t get more romantic than that.

**Sent:** And then you tripped over the pavement and I knew I was done for.

**Received: **shut up this minute, Im coming for you. I will find you.

Steve thinks his job is now done, as JARVIS informs him that Bucky has suddenly surfaced in one of the stairwells and is on route to Steve’s current location. He gets up from the floor and dusts himself off, waits at the entrance to the labs where his brain had essentially short circuited from the litany of information, both good and bad, he had been inundated with so far this morning. And it takes almost no time at all for Bucky to find him.

‘You asshole,’ Bucky says, launching himself at Steve and wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist, his arms around his shoulders and kissing Steve fiercely. ‘You absolute fucking asshole, you can’t even let me freak out like a normal boy, you have to be so extra!’

‘I’m sorry, baby, are you mad?’ Steve is getting mixed signals here, what with the kissing and the admonition. 

‘No, I’m not mad, I fucking love you, you idiot. I just… how are you so perfect?’

Steve wants to tell Bucky that he’s far from perfect, that he’s just sure, about how he feels, and what he wants, and who Bucky is. But he also doesn’t want to ruin the moment with a bunch of sappy ‘extra’ nonsense that Bucky will only berate him for anyway. He knows it, and it’s enough to just let himself know it for now. 

‘Are you… what about the other stuff though. The photo’s, the article. Are you okay?’

Bucky looks down at him and winces, like he’d just been reminded of something unpleasant. ‘I’m… okay. It’s not like we haven’t been waiting for it, right?’

‘We have?’

‘I mean, it's what all the contingencies the PR guys put in place where for, when it went public. Like SHIELD has a statement ready and...you… did know about that right?’

‘What contingencies,’ Steve doesn’t remember any contingencies.

‘Well, that package they sent out with all of what we should say to the press… you didn’t get one?’

‘No,’ Steve says. And wonders why they’ve never broached this with him, and what else they’ve been talking to Bucky about behind his back. ‘Can I see the package?’

‘I don't have it with me, Stevie,’ Bucky says, retracting his legs from around Steve and planting himself back on the floor. Good job, Steve, moment spectacularly ruined. 

They head on into the labs to wait for Tony, who is still AWOL, and Bucky retrieves what he can of the material that was sent to him via email.

‘No.’ Steve says, reading through the garbage press release. ‘We’re not saying this.’

‘You know this is probably why they didn’t send it to you.’

‘If we’re making a statement its that we’re dating, I love you and that I’ve been gay since birth.’

‘Christ, Stevie.’

‘I like it, short, succinct, scandalous,’ Tony says, invading the labs and their privacy. 'So I just spent an hour with our lawyers about having you in the public eye, Kiddo - do not look at me like that Captain Extra,' he brings up screens full of paperwork in midair, Steve stamping down on his being impressed in case Tony should see and get the wrong idea. ‘Apparently there’s not a lot we can do about all the bullshit whomever might start spouting about you two might start spouting-’

‘Why does Bucky’s personal life have anything to do with you or the company.’

‘Steve,’ Bucky places a hand on Steve’s forearm, ‘Tony is trying to find a way he can use Stark Industries to keep me safe. He’s not worried about the company.’

‘Yeah Cap, I mean, in terms of the publicity storms this company has been through in the past, this is nothing.’

‘I’m happy to provide you with some example articles of Mister Stark’s public faux pas, Captain Rogers.’

‘Yes, thank you Jarvis, that won’t be necessary,’ Steve says, cringing at the possibilities.

‘Thanks Tony, I appreciate you looking, but I think it's going to be fine.' Bucky's let go of Steve's arm now and sits down at his station. 

'Just like that? It's gonna be fine?' Tony says, crossing his arms. 

'I think,' Bucky looks over at Steve, 'I think we can just ride this out, make our statement, even if it's totally ridiculous,' the little smile is all for Steve, 'and then just go back to being us. People will back off when they get bored.'

Steve looks at Bucky and thinks he knows what Bucky isn't saying. That this is a necessary evil if they have any chance at a long-term relationship. That not feeding the negativity will be easier on them both. Which… Steve doesn't love the idea of backing down from a fight. But if they say their piece, make a statement, make it irrefutable that they are together, that it's serious, that they want privacy and respect; ignoring hateful rhetoric, being happy and in love, will be more successful a comeback than any contentious media arguments. And SHIELD doesn't own him, if they refuse to get behind all this, and refuse to let Steve focus on rebuilding, restoring balance rather than fighting, then they can, politely, go fuck themselves. 

'We make a statement, we ask for privacy, respect, and we ignore the bullshit.' 

'Right,' Bucky's smile turns even fonder at Steve's understanding, 'that's exactly what I mean.'

‘Okay, quit with the eye fucking, guys, its gross,’ Tony scoffs, flicking the screens away and then recrossing his arms, ‘If you want to be all boring and high road about it, fine.’

Steve chuckles at his disappointment, ‘Don’t worry, they’ll all go nuts enough when they find out we’re engaged.’

‘What!’ Tony’s eyebrows near leap from his face. Bucky makes a cute little noise as he almost falls off his stool. Which is when Steve realises what he said. Out loud. ‘What!’ Tony yells again for good measure. 

Bucky has righted himself and is just staring at Steve.

‘I… ah…’ And Steve really has no idea what to say.

‘You got ENGAGED!’ Tony seems to be having a moment, oddly manic and still at the same time. It would be hilarious if Steve wasn’t currently attempting to melt into the floor. 

‘Err… no, not… yet?’ Steve is blushing, he can feel it, his hands are desperate to be doing something, but he’s standing in the middle of the lab, and short of just turning tail and running off, he doesn’t have a lot of options to distract them.

‘Not yet?’ Tony asks, calming down at how obviously awkward this is, clearly not a secret engagement. Just one hopelessly in love super soldier and his long suffering boyfriend.

Bucky is still staring at Steve, but he’s smiling. It’s a beautiful smile, joyful and uninhibited, and Steve has to physically hold back from jumping him. He gives his head a little shake and says, ‘Steve,’ with so much love, its palpable, ‘You’re hopeless.’

‘Okay, oh my god, both of you get out of my lab before I vomit, go home kiddo, early minute.’

Steve doesn’t actually wait for Bucky to reply, he rushes over and grabs him by the hand, ‘Bye Tony!’ he calls as he drags Bucky to the elevators.

‘Okay, wait, I just, Tony! I’ll just email you, I’ll be back tomorrow!’ Bucky is calling over his shoulder, trying to keep up with Steve, who gives up dragging him and throws him over his shoulder, takes the stairs to his apartment level. ‘Steve! Oh my god,’ Bucky is huffing, trying to get purchase with his hands on Steve’s shoulders, ‘Put me down you savage.’

‘No can do, almost there, Buck,’ Steve laughs as Bucky squeaks at a particularly large hop in Steve’s step.

‘If anyone sees this I’m never forgiving you.’

‘I bet I could turn you around,’ Steve says, carefully maneuvering them both through the fire door and into his apartment. He rushes through the kitchen to his bedroom, drops Bucky down on the bed and crawls over him. Bucky is looking up at him with a mixture of love and annoyance that Steve could get lost in quite happily for the rest of his life.

Something has been on his mind though and he wants to address it before his anxiety can turn it into an argument.

'Hey Buck?'

'Mm?'

'You turned your tracker off today.' Steve's reading Bucky's face for any sign this line of questioning might get him in trouble. 

'I just needed some space,' he replies just as carefully, 'you were worried, huh.'

'Yeah, I panicked I guess, when even Jarvis didn't know where you were.'

'You did? You panicked?'

'I know you're not obligated to keep it on, Buck, but… that was such an awful feeling. Knowing that just being with me puts you in danger, and the story had broken, your face in the paper, then thinking you'd been taken-'

'Hey, hey, hey,' Bucky stops him from getting worked up with a gentle tone and his fingers through Steve's hair, 'I didn't even think about that, Stevie, that's on me. I won't do it again. Okay?' he reaches up to kiss Steve softly, 'I'll make sure you always know where to find me.'

'Thank you, Buck. I know it's not fair, but thank you.' He looks down at his boyfriend, into stormy grey eyes with a brightness that speaks to the irrefutably kind, calming strength of the man they belong to. He wants to find a way to deserve him, because he can never give him up now. 

‘You realise I know all your secrets now, Steve,’ Bucky says quietly, sinking into the bed and reaching up to Steve, ‘You love me, you want me to move in, you want to _ marry me _, Stevie. Keep tabs on me everywhere. Where’s the mystery?’

‘Mystery is overrated,’ Steve kisses him, pressing Bucky into the bed with his whole body, careful to keep his weight in his arms, ‘but I’m gonna fuck you so good right now, you wont remember any of this.’

‘Wow, such a romantic.’

‘Hush, let me love you Buck.’

‘I’ll always let you love me, Stevie,’ Bucky whispers into Steve’s mouth, and Steve is giddy with how much he wants to sink into this moment and never leave. 

‘You’re really not freaking out?’ Steve asks, because he needs to be sure.

‘I love you too, you dork. I want all those things, maybe not right now, but, you know I do.’

‘And the press? All that stuff?’

‘Other people don’t get to make decisions for us, Steve. We just be true to ourselves, it’ll all work out.’

‘Okay,’ Steve marvels at how much Bucky justs _ trusts _ himself, ‘okay, but you need to get out of all these clothes right now.’

‘So bossy,’ Bucky laughs.

‘I’m very important you know,’ Steve teases, ‘you should be more respectful.’

‘Sir, yes sir,’ Bucky gives a jaunty salute as he starts pulling his sweater off, ‘you too, please.’

‘Oh no, I’m the boss now,’ Steve sits back, feet under his hips, as he watches Bucky. 

Bucky raises his eyebrows, throws his jeans and underwear across the room and crawls up into Steve’s lap. ‘Oh you’re the boss now,’ he says, looping his arms over Steve’s shoulders and nuzzling into his neck, ‘well, how would you like me?’

Steve’s brain shorts out while Bucky starts kissing that sweet spot between his neck and his shoulder, none of the words he wants to say will actually form and he can feel Bucky laughing at him.

‘How about you open me up here so you can fuck me like you promised.’

Steve lets Bucky guide his hand and just nods along in affirmation. He uses his strength to lift Bucky and keep him in his lap while he reaches into the drawer to get what they need and then position them back in the middle of the bed. He uses his fingers to get Bucky ready while Bucky works bruises into the skin of his throat and up into his jaw. When he’s three fingers in, Bucky uses his deft precision to undo Steve’s dress pants and free his cock enough that he can sit right down on it, arching his back and tipping his head back as he seats himself. Steve is so lost he just gives in to the sensations, allowing Bucky to find the angles he’s searching for before thrusting up into them. He chases Bucky’s kiss swollen lips and bites at the taste of them. 

Bucky must find the perfect spot because he’s soon gasping ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ into Steve’s mouth. 

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he says, pulling Bucky’s gorgeous hair and whispering into his ear, ‘Love you, wanna marry you someday, Bucky Barnes.’

‘Oh god, Steve,’ Bucky cries out and is coming over Steve’s chest, Steve holding his hair as he comes right after, Bucky, sex drunk and laughing at him. ‘I thought the whole point of that was that I forget you already said that, Stevie.’

‘I guess I just can’t help myself.’

‘What am I going to do with you?’ Bucky asks fondly, cupping Steve’s face in his palms, kissing him gently before he pulls himself off Steve and gets up to use the bathroom. ‘Just promise you won’t mention anything about marriage in your statement please!’ he calls from the shower as Steve hears the water start, ‘My ma will have a heart attack!’

‘I can try,’ he says noncommittally, because honestly, he hasn’t been too successful at keeping it to himself so far.

‘Promise me.’ Bucky pokes his head around the bathroom door and gives Steve his very serious face. Which really turns Steve into a big puddle.

‘Okay, Buck, I promise.’ And he can do it if Bucky really wants him to. He hopes. 

Bucky looks less than convinced as he darts back into the shower. Steve doesn’t worry about it too much, and gets up from the bed to join him there. 

The Press conference Pepper organises ends up being a success. Steve says exactly what he wans to say. That he’s always been gay, that if anyone had something negative to say about that they should let his service history speak for itself. That their relationship is no one's business but his and Bucky’s, but it's serious, they would appreciate respect and privacy. That he is taking on a more permanent role with the Avengers in a humanitarian effort, helping coordinate Stark Industries and other large scale operations to divert time and infrastructure to education in remote areas across the world, including in their own country. He doesn’t wait to see the reception. He doesn’t need to know how people take it, he’s made his position clear, 

Bucky is waiting for him, away from reporters, but close enough that Steve can feel his calming presence. As Steve leaves the podium, leaves the noise and the complication of the media to trained professionals, he lets Bucky’s smile pull him in. Lets Bucky’s arms wrap around his middle and hold him tight. He’s so proud of both of them, for the changes they can and will make in the world, for the trust they have in each other. 

‘That was so good, Steve. You look sort of scary up there.’ 

‘I look scary?’

‘In a good way, like a commanding way,’ Bucky adds warmly, ‘I almost never see you like that.’ Which Steve is pretty glad of. He’s never, not once, felt like Captain America around Bucky. He’s always Steve Rogers, some punk who blurts out his feelings like word vomit and eats food right off Bucky’s plate and steals kisses at every opportunity and can never fix the fluffy mess if his hair. ‘You had those assholes so wide eyed!’

‘Thanks, Buck.’ He leans in and lets his lips find Bucky’s, lets them tell Bucky everything he wants Bucky to know, everything he trusts Bucky _ already _ knows.

'Thank _ you, Stevie_, for not announcing our fantasy wedding to the world'

'Didn't I promise you,' Steve says, hand on his heart, and gets nothing but a knowing smirk in return.

They escape to the garage and take one of Tony’s ridiculously tinted windowed cars - they can keep a low profile and Steve can tease Bucky about his reflection - and the smile on his face is huge and it's real. They're heading off to Cherry Springs State Park for a few days to avoid the media and to get some rest before Steve dives head first into his new role. Bucky has as much amateur astronomy gear in the trunk as Steve has non-perishable food packed, it's going to be a hell of a week (he has also packed _ a lot _ of lubricant).

And he's excited that when they get back his life will be waiting for him, filled with such promise, so much happiness, opportunities that Steve has sought out on his own, can believe in. He doesn’t need to make lists anymore. This century isn’t new, he isn’t lost. He’s found his place.

This is where he belongs.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end dear readers! Thank you for all the comments and the love. 
> 
> If you love it, let me know:
> 
> hit me up at ** [darter-blue](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/darter-blue)** on tumblr
> 
> Or 
> 
> Come chat on twitter:[@beclouise13](https://twitter.com/beclouise13)


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